#we also had the world's longest trash bag

[ainawgsd]

I cant even this week. Came in to work this morning to find the big fridge below freezing. It went out last night within 15 minutes of us closing. EVERYTHING in that fridge has to be damaged out.

[luimagines]

Hi Pinky! So like, I had a thought. (Dangerous, I know.)

What if the Chain gets to a town and the townsfolk are just BEGGING this group of obviously well trained warriors to help them in their plight. They’re willing to pay upfront and they tell tales of a wicked beast that dwells in a cave nearby that torments them and has for several years! They beg the Chain to slay the beast and free them from its evil spirit.

Naturally, the Chain investigate.

After a journey, they arrive at the cave… which at first glance is full of treasure! Sweet! But as they continue to investigate, there’s no sign of this beast. But it seems an area of the cave has been made to resemble a home. A bunch of cloth has been piled up in the shape of a bed, a tree stump (looks like it was legit pulled out of the ground) was placed like a table nearby, and wooden boards against the wall were made to resemble cabinets. They were empty. More of the cave had the crude decor, it was like an imitation of sorts.

Anyway, as they’re investigating, they hear something approaching! So they hide and wait for whatever it is to show itself. Turns out, this ‘beast’ is nothing more than a girl (or boy. Or gn. Idk. I’m a girl so I project) maybe in her late teens or early twenties. However, it was clear she wasn’t quite… Hylian. Her skin was a pale gray. She had horns protruding from both sides of her head, and instead of hands and feet, she had claws/talons. And when she opened her mouth, she had rows of razor sharp teeth.

“I’m home~” She said in a singsong voice as she pulled a brand new gem from her bag and placed it with her other treasures. She then proceeds to throw a bloodied fish onto the table and dance around her home without a care in the world.

The details get fuzzy at this point because I’m unsure exactly how the Chain respond. But the gist is either they show themselves or the girl finds them. She then proceeds to get very scared and cowers. This eventually turns into the Chain questioning her and they find out the townsfolk weren’t truthful. Turns out, she has only ever set foot into the town once… and was chased out with torches and pitchforks. And they often come by when she’s away and trashes her home and takes her belongings.

She tried to mimic the Hylian homes she’s seen, so that’s why the decor of the cave was the way that it was. She wasn’t entirely sure what it was all for, but she wanted to be like them. She knew the people in the town slept in beds and put food on a table, so she adopted the habits.

She likes shiny things! So that’s why she has so much treasure. She goes out on treasure hunting trips and finds anything shiny. She has never stolen her shiny treasures. She actually finds ruins and similar places to dig and find what she wants.

This is also where details get fuzzy. Idk if the idea will ever continue in my mind because I’m honestly unsure of what happens. I kinda think some of the Chain (Time) is like “not our circus not our monkeys” because she’s not actually doing anyone any harm. But the other half of the Chain is like “We can’t just leave her and met the townsfolk continue to torment her!” Again though, details are fuzzy and I’m unsure of how to continue.

Hope you have enjoyed this little idea I had. Feel free to comment on it or add your own spin to it. This goes for you and everyone else who sees this.

For the longest time, I thought I already responded to this. Oof- my sickness was deep-

Poor Reader, they were just trying to fit in with the people and instead they were run out of town and attacked.

I think it would make more sense if Reader finds them first. they have no reason to show themselves to the "threat" especially if said threat doesn't know they're there yet. It's a learning opportunity to see what they do and what they've been doing in the comfort of their own home.

If Reader found them on their own, it cold lead to more angst and more opportunity to open up the dialogue for the viewer (I can't really call y'all Reader here, can I?) to learn more about the current world and circumstances. Use for exposition purposes.

I wonder why Reader was trying to copy the people so bad though? Where did Reader come from?

Furthermore, I think maybe the next point of what to do next would lend itself nicely to having Reader join them in their adventures. It's the perfect middle ground to the whole "not our circus, not our monkeys" thing you mentioned while also giving Reader an opportunity to escape the harrassment from the townsfolk.

Granted, I'm not entirely sure where to take it from this point as well. But maybe the community can come up with something. XD

[mochikeiji]

Exact Replica

Request: "Hi! I really love you're writing and was wondering if you could do prompt 25+29 for Kuroo Tetsuro from Haikyuu? And could it be angst to fluff? (Maybe Kuroo was ignoring the reader due to lots of work/stress so reader feels neglected?) It's totally up to you tho! Ty so much!!"

25. "Would you notice if I was gone?"

29. "I didn't mean it."

↠ Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x F!Reader

↠ Warning: angst to fluff, mentions of pregnancy and kuroo's sad childhood

↬ Word Count: 3.7k

↠ a/n: okay this is my longest one yet. I swear the prompt screams angst to fluff so much that I go into it.

↳ from Go! Go! Gogatsu Event

Kuroo Tetsuro achieved many great things in life after graduating from his university, with multiple acknowledgements and honors. Landed a position as a young CEO from a sports association at the age of 24, he had enough money in his pocket and bank to stable both of you financially. Life was good to him after having to build from the roots  of his ruined childhood; the only years of defeat Kuroo doesn't ever want to repeat. His father and mother were in the same position as you both are; owning your own shared house, good working environment, investments and stability, married.

Up until this day Kuroo questions why his parents split. They were fortunate that they had every thing completed, sadly it was the family and love that wasn't taken care of. You could be the happiest person, yet the void inside would still be there, Kuroo thought. Foolish people were to neglect something more valuable than any object that is given. Whether it was his father or his mother that stopped nurturing what they both bonded for the longest time, they were both fools to let each other go over something simple. He vows to never let history repeat itself.

But now the tables seemed to have flipped for the both of you. Your lives not far from what he had ran away from. If Kuroo could eat his words back, he would've now that he was running late yet again to coming home, forgetting about the promise he swore to about joining you after a full month of being occupied in his office. Coming home to have you already tucked in bed, but suffering in silence.

Most days he didn't bother greeting you in the morning and night. As a good wife, you understand. He was a busy man with an important position to maintain.

There were times where you'd be tapping your foot down on the floor as the clock strikes at an ungodly hour with your messages still not bothered to be replied to or even read. But you understand. He's working! Always doing what he can for the both of you like the good husband he wanted to be.

Even if sometimes he'd come home without a kiss or a simple, "I missed you." you understand. He's drained. No time for silly, endearing affections. You've done them a lot before back when you were younger. You're adults! Married! A married partner shouldn't be feeling so needy when the other was only doing their part.

Even when sometimes your insecurities would kick in whenever you'd visit your husband to drop his forgotten lunch again, only to see him flocked by different women; probably secretaries, interns, and assistance.

You understand. You always did took such good care of what you two have.

Well had.

His home office door slams shut, awakening you from your nap on the couch. Didn't Kuroo notice you when he walked in? Looking at the clock you noticed it was near 11:30 PM since he's arrived. Late again, maybe he hasn't eaten anything? No worries, you thought sadly. Stretching your aching muscles, you made your way to the dining area. So far dinner was left untouched once more. Just how many times has it gone to waste because you continued on cooking for two?

Or rather, three.

You beam at the sudden reminder while preparing your husband's plate. You'd always miss him whenever he'd come home, never had the chance to surprise him at the right time of your little discovery about a week ago. Fear did struck you because of the possible reactions he'd give, but you were so excited in sharing the news that a couple would share the equal happiness from, you couldn't contain it any longer.

Maybe you should've chosen another time unbeknownst to you how your husband was hunched over his desk, clearly in displease of the previous events that had occurred during the meeting back in his office. Hence why his work stack added more piles of predicaments, only fueling his headaches more wishing he could just lay down peace and quiet without disturbance.

He grumbles at the knock on his door, only typing furiously with emphasized taps on the keyboard. You, not sensing the emitting aura from the room took it as a response for you to enter. It surprised you a bit on how disordered his home office had become. It was obvious his coat had been thrown carelessly as it lays on the floor, wrinkled. Carefully placing the plate full of food on the small coffee table at the side, you gingerly picked up the article of clothing. Lightly trying to smoothen out the lines before hanging it behind his door and turning back to your husband.

"Tetsu?" cautiously calling out his name, you were kind of wary at the fact he didn't turn to see you unlike he does before whenever you'd enter the room. "I brought you your dinner. You came home pretty late." you tried to maintain the light hearted tone of your voice to hide how nervous you were in telling him the big news.

The atmosphere was kind of eerie when all he did was hum meekly from your words. Feeling a bit disheartened from his lack of attentiveness, still forcing a smile, you padded a little closer behind him with your hands clasps together. "I also wanted— well needed to tell you something." averting your eyes away from him as you prepared in your head. With a small hope he'd turn around for once after a long time.

"Can it be another time? I'm in the middle of stuff here."

Another time.

Why is it always next time? It's frustrating enough to not see him or have him speak to you even for a moment, but this made your stomach churn in an unpleasant way. Frowning at his poor reply, you gulped a few of your sentence back. Not fully trusting your emotions getting in the way, "You never really talked to me before, Tetsu.. I get that you're busy, but it wouldn't hurt for you to give a little minute for me."

Even just a second as long as he'd finally notice you.

"(Y/n) if you understand then why bother? You can clearly see I'm busy." chest huffing out a harsh sigh, still not bothering to turn around. Gripping your hands tightly, your patience were starting to snap. "You're always busy, Tetsu! I never had a proper conversation with you again." raising the volume of your voice a little made his actions come to a halt. Chair revolving around to face you. His appearance made it obvious how exhausted he has been; tousled hair that he usually takes longer to style, the light forming bags underneath his eyes from the screen and lack of sleep. The visible annoyance marked in his expression. But couldn't he say the same for you?

"Fine. Here, you have my attention now. Are we talking properly now?" his way of provoking you wasn't in the right place. It only made you look at him in disbelief because you've grown to never meet such side of your husband before. The news you had originally planned to share vanished from your head, replaced with the restrained emotions that has been building up inside your heart, tipping over.

"Tetsu, what is wrong with you?" looking at him now seemed like you were talking to someone else. His words were curt and short with no intention of prolonging the conversation, itching to get back to work so he could be done with it. "I already you I'm just busy. I would be done by now if you didn't want to talk properly with me." he says as if he's the one in distraught. "Seriously, nothing's wrong but I think you aren't. You're never like this."

"That's because you never cared to noticed in the first place!" wailing out the collapsed emotions that has weighed you heavily. It was too late to stop yourself from voicing out the things your husband left aside. A full month of being a good, understanding image of a wife thrown away to the rubbles without even appreciating the the long nights of you waiting up for him, cooking meals even though the next day they'd end up being in the trash, tolerating the coldness of the used to be warm sheets, putting up with the insecurities you took upon yourself to hide to avoid troubling your husband further when all you wanted was for him to assure you that he still loves you and only you.

The fascade you put up just for him crumbles. And it infuriates you more of how he still doesn't notice.

"(Y/n), you know I've been working! There's so much stuff that needs to be attended for just so you and I could live normally!"

"Tetsuro, we are stabled, it's okay to slow down a bit. How is this any normal to you when you don't even realize how this affects me?!"

The chair slides back roughly against the floor with a loud creak as he towers over you. Glowering eyes with a dark expression looming over his face, clearly now enraged. "You're being selfish right now. I'm here doing what I can to support us and all you could think of was you, you, you. Can't you see I'm doing this for you as well? God what else do you want from me, the world?"

"I only wanted you to give me your time and attention even just for a second, Tetsuro! I've been doing my best for you all this month and I never said anything to trouble you!"

It hurts when he said how you were being the selfish one when it was the opposite. It dawned to you that all those days of giving your all for him wasn't once noticed. "Will you ever grow up already? Attention? Really? We're adults, (Y/n) not teenagers for fucks sake. My time is just wasted because of you!" he doesn't stop there even if you've had your mouth already shut from how he portrayed you as. His words were beginning to leave a deep scar in you as you quiet down to the next line.

"If you think that nothing is troubling me, there is! And you just happen to add in for crying out loud!"

There were no words exchanged after his meltdown. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he looks away from you— who's eyes were already watery. Unable to even tell your side anymore at the ache of your heart. "So..I'm just troubling you then?" quivering out your words, Kuroo clenches his jaw as the bubbling frustration was being held back with the last bit of restrain he had.

"Would you notice if I was gone, Tetsu?"

Instead of being alarmed by your chosen form of sentence, you watched with sad eyes as your husband pulled back his chair and faced his workload. He didn't even noticed you're already crying silently, "Not now, (Y/n). We'll talk later."

He doesn't even noticed how you walked out sobbing with a shattered heart nor the door in the living room closing. Leaving him alone for the next few hours in peace like he wanted.

Time went on quickly when one doesn't take their eyes off from their consecutive workaholic state. With a groan, he almost slams his laptop shut before stretching his bones, slowly relaxing the tense muscles. It's up to his co workers and assistance to deal with the load he's prepared to dump onto them after they threw all theirs to him. Hoping to freshen up his face, Kuroo tidies his desk up before making his way to the door. Stopping in realization of the now cold dinner that was left on the coffee table.

His stomach growled loudly at the lack of food it's digested in the longest run. It was still good if he heats it up, he does miss eating home made meals than his stale ones back in the cafeteria of his workplace. Grabbing the plate carefully he first made a short journey to the kitchen to heat up his food. Unusual it was to have all the lights out in the house. You'd always leave some opened when he was awake. Then again the guilt started to crawl up to his chest knowing he's the cause of why you'd forgotten.

Now entering the bathroom with water running down his face, he plans ahead the apology he owes you when he wakes up tomorrow morning. He could reschedule his own time since he is the boss. He closes the faucet right after he was done rinsing. Looking around for the towel his eyes caught something below the small organizer you put up next to the sink. Grabbing the towel above the first part of the organizer, bending down slowly to avoid getting cramps, his actions were quick to grab the object that caught his attention the moment it seemed so familiar and surprising.

Pregnancy test. Two lines for positive.

Having a child with you was the last thing he's yet to accomplish from his list, and here it was. As much as he wanted to be in denial, it all felt like surge of contentment drowns him in because he was going to be a dad. However his body began to tremble whilst still holding the test and staring intently at it. The previous guilt that was crawling beneath his bones became a dark, desolated hole of anxiety and fear that ate him whole. The things he's said and done will never be taken back no matter how he apologizes to the past events a few hours ago.

Hours ago. It was already 2:25 when the fight had ceased. Deep down he knows he couldn't wait until the next day to plead for forgiveness. After all, he did vow to never leave you both a day feeling heavy alone. Kuroo felt nauseous of how much of an asshole he had treated you. Like starting a game of volleyball once more, he was beyond nervous when he approached your shared bedroom. There was no excuse of his actions indeed as he solemnly enters the dimmed room. He sighs a little shaky when he closes in your bed, "Baby?" he starts, "Baby, are you awake?" it was one of the little things he's memorized that you'd do when you both aren't in good terms. You never really slept, just pretended because you always had the heart to wait up for him.

When he gets no response he reaches out to pat you, only coming to the sense that the sheets were left untouched; no warmth traced behind. You weren't there, any where. His blood runs cold and immediately fishes out for his phone in his pocket, speed dialing your number while he circles the entire area of the house in case you'd be there. Now he was more terrified when he hears the familiar voice mail from the living room couch where you had slept while waiting for him.

You left your phone. His wife wasn't home— his pregnant wife.

"Fuck." running a rough hand through his tangled hair. The lump on his throat grows but he refuses to let out a string of sobs. It was his fault you were gone at such an ungodly hour. Kuroo felt more than a bigger asshole than before he's made you come to the point of leaving home. Just as his mother did and never returned. The one thing he swore you two would never be the same came to life, only thought now is Kuroo doesn't know whether you've left him for good after being a neglectful husband and to have dishearten his own beloved wife like that.

"Would you notice if I was gone?"

Rang in his head as he stood outside the neighborhood, running. Chasing after a hallucinated image of you any place he tried to remember you'd be in. A fool he has been to have left you in a loveless marriage. He loves you, he really does. He can't imagine a life without you in it. Just as it was about to become the happiest he's wanted, he pushed it all too soon. A bad husband, he cries. "(Y/n), please come home." legs aching and panting from having to study all areas. It was pitch black; there were no opened spots for you to even go at an hour of slumber and chaos. The only convenient store did not even have you in it. You were no where to be seen and Kuroo breaks.

Of course he'd notice when it was all too late. The past he's ran away from was still the place he's returned now that the house was only occupied by nothing but rotten memories of the love he didn't took care of. The exact replica of a married life he desperately tried to dodge. "I'm so sorry." for the lonely nights he's left you to sleep, over thinking of what may have been your fault and always figuring him out tirelessly. For the small efforts of adoration he didn't took a glance at and gone to waste. For the words that were never even meant for you to ever feel. For being a neglectful husband. He was sorry he noticed too late how he ruined his precious wife.

Now he's left you on your own out in the dangers outside. If anything horrible happened to you he will forever be crushed. But the world thinks that second chances are given to those who truly deserve them after you came in quietly, slipping off your sandals and waving back to your friend who had dropped you off home. Your short break to the convenient store changed when you met up with her and drove back to her place to rant about what happened. Being the sluggish person you are whenever sadness hits, you never noticed how long you've over stayed. It wasn't like your husband was going to know if he still was working.

Much to your surprise that he wasn't, you stifled a gasp to find him with his hands holding his head that was leaned down on the table. His shoulders were lightly jolting with escapes of audible sniffles, indicating that he was in fact crying. If he looked exhausted before, it wasn't enough to describe his current state; as if he was a man who'd lost every thing as he sat there with all hope lost. Your foot padded on the creaky part of the floor in attempt to tiptoe over his hunched back to comfort him. Squeaking in the awkward situation you've put the room in when Kuroo turns his head behind to see you standing there a bit frightened, but concerned when you saw how disheveled his face looks.

"Tetsu—" his name got cut off short from when you almost tripped over your balance at the sudden impact of Kuroo throwing himself into your arms with his weight. You couldn't make out what he was mumbling on about, but you melt to his embrace even if he squeezes the living day lights from you, afraid that he was going crazy and you weren't real. "Thank God," litters of kisses were placed on your clavicle, "You're back."

He repeats, slowly convincing himself that you are indeed home in his arms, safe, no harm detected. Just home. "I'm so sorry.."

"I didn't mean it. I didn't mean any of what I said, I-I'm so sorry." your bodies swayed gently to the sound of your hushes and his cries of apologies. "Please don't leave me like that again. I was so scared."

"Shhh, it's okay, Tetsu. I'm sorry. I'm okay— we're okay." leading him to sit down at the couch, you placed the bag of different brands of sweets and junk on the table before facing your husband. You had to stifle in a laugh watching him wipe his nose, you couldn't help but be reminded of a mini Tetsuro by looking at him. The argument that stung you faded when he took a hold of your hands and mumbled another apology.

"You shouldn't be sorry for anything. I should be.." flickering his eyes from your belly to your bloodshot eyes from your own fiasco back in your friend's place, he slides in closer next to you where your shoulders touched. "I haven't been a good husband lately, have I?" he looks at you expectantly. Frowning, you still nodded. Tired of hiding your own feelings from him.

"I know you're busy most of the time, Tetsu. But I just wanted you to recognize me as your wife." thumbs quick to swipe away the tear that had shed from your eye, "We're in this together, remember?" he pulls you right from the arm, shoving your face to his chest in need to hold you for all the times he should've. Ignoring the dampness of his white long-sleeved polo, breathing in the scent of your sweet shampoo. You were still so forgiving and understanding despite on how equally tired as he was you are.

"I'm so sorry I've made you feel as if I never cared anymore. You never deserved that." his lips found it's way to the crown of your head. "I don't deserve you, and I really don't want to lose you after me being stupid." giggling through tears, fist connecting a soft punch on his chest, bubbling a chuckle to the surface as he lightly pulls you away from hiding.

"I really didn't mean all of those things I've said, baby. I love you and only you." stroking ever so lovingly your cheek, you don't catch on to the fact that his other hand was placed over your stomach protectively. Making a silent promise to not only you, but the soon to be new addition to the family that he will never again neglect what he should've cherished more and looked after than the constant worries at the back of his head.

Because he will never again repeat the replica of a broken family he once was born in.

© all content belongs to mochikeiji. Please do not repost or copy, ありがとうございました!! (=^･^=)

[serenadeonacanoe]

Honestly, I'd piss him off on purpose. (Namjoon x OFC)

Pairing: Namjoon x Original Female Character

Genre/Warnings: Smut, Angst, Fluff, too tired to beta

Tags: Artist!Namjoon, Yoongi and Tae are the best flatmates, Enemies to Lovers I guess... more like brats to making out in the storage unit, OFC is an idiot.

Summary:

"Wow. Is that that grumpy artist behind you? Jesus. He really looks like a bit of a dick. And you are right. He really is hot..." Oh no. Speakerphone. Namjoon was standing behind me and was staring at me. Then at my phone. He let out a little laugh, then raised his hand to wave at Tae and Yoongi outside who were now also staring at him as if frozen, before turning around in unison. As if that would help. As if he couldn't see them. Or better even... couldn't hear them.

[...]

Mister Darcy has nothing on Kim Namjoon - that new and upcoming artist you probably already heard of (You haven't? How dare you? At least have the decency to pretend you have!). He is cold, serious, and rather good at making other people believe he is a prick. Especially Elizabeth Bennet - uh... Charlotte - is about to lose it because of him. Maybe in a good way. Man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

CHAPTER 1

Even the sound of my own nails rhythmically tapping on the top of the counter was annoying me. To be fair, it didn't need much today to blow my fuze that had never been particularly long in the first place. But after a week consisting of being belittled by old white men and endless hours of unpaid overtime I about had it. Welcome to the art world. You know well before you enter that the hours are horrible and the job market is more than frustrating, but you love art and you have good organisational skills, you are resilient, charming when it counts and tend to romanticize things even when you know you shouldn't. It's too late to turn around now.

"That is why I don't use an agenda or notebook. If something is important enough for me to attend I simply won't forget. I know you youngsters are all about the bullet journaling and expressing yourself by mapping out your life but it really is just another way to procrastinate instead of getting to actual work." For a second I considered throwing my damn notebook in the buyer's face, but that probably wouldn't have helped my CV and the new job I would have to look for starting tomorrow. At least I should have screamed at him a little. Mainly, that I didn't care, that I was on my period and my shitty shower in the shitty flat i shared had broken and no dry shampoo in the world had fixed my hair this morning and that god damn it, how the hell was I supposed to remember every phone number, every call my boss had to take, every art handling transport I had organized if I couldn't write it down somewhere. Instead, I smiled. Died a little on the inside and complimented him on the gift of his exceptional memory and asked whether he would like another cup of coffee.

"What a dick." Samantha murmured, more to herself than me, after the guy had finally left, which made me snort under my breath. She usually didn't say much but when she did it was usually pure gold. In the end, it didn't matter that he was. Didn't matter that everyone at the gallery thought the art he had bought from us over the last couple of months had neither been smart nor impressive purchases. Mainly expensive. And flashy.

"Doesn't matter now." I said in a sigh after a quick glance at the clock. It was Friday night and we were about to close. Since it was my birthday on Monday I had taken two days off, about the longest break I had had this year and I was looking forward to being the lazy slob for a few days I was maybe always meant to be. In silence we answered a few last emails, tidied up the desks and counters so that potential buyers that would come in over the weekend wouldn't have to suspect anyone was actually working here. - A white desk. A huge Imac on it. That was all they needed to see, folders and pens and apparently especially agendas to be hidden away in drawers.

At five to eight I threw on my coat and Samantha just gave me a tired smile. Probably happy for me, just exhausted. "Have fun then? Don't get too wasted?" "Oh..." I said with a huge smug grin on my lips. "You have no idea... gonna take a bottle of Moët with me from the bar and drink it in my bathtub after eating a huge pepperoni pizza by myself and dancing to only the finest of 90s Euro Trash." I couldn't help it, apparently, I felt it necessary to give Sam a little demonstration, waving my arms up and down while swaying my hips in a way that I'd probably would not have if it hadn't been for a bit with an audience of a single person. Or maybe two?

A quiet scoff behind me and I quickly turned around, slowly lowering my arms, Sam biting her lower lip at the sight of me standing there like an idiot in front of HIM of all people.

Men didn't have to be old to annoy me. Or white. Yes, those were the ones that pissed me off most usually, but no one had managed to do so as much as Kim Namjoon recently. And now he was standing there, looking me up and down and stopping at my hair. The crazy too-much-dry-shampoo-because-the-shower-broke-hair. "Nice." He just commented and then looked over at Sam. "I'd like to take a last look before Sunday's opening if that is okay?" I stood there, my shoulders dropping, completely ignored.

"Uhm, actually, my babysitter has to leave in about an hour and I will have to be home before that." Samantha replied and I was impressed by how calm she stayed. "Of course." Namjoon said and gave her a slight smile. "Anyone else still around? Chris maybe?" Of course Chris hadn't been in today. It was Friday and unless important guests had announced themselves the owner of the gallery wasn't around on Fridays... "I am afraid not. But maybe Charlotte has a few minutes?" Well. Thanks. Thanks a lot. I felt a little betrayed. "Wouldn't want to keep anyone from their important Moët-Pizza-Dance Party plans." Namjoon replied before I could say a word. His voice once more dropping to a hushed, deep disapproval and his hands buried in the pockets of his rather expensive looking coat. Silence for a few moments and then he just walked off towards the room his exhibition had been set up all week. Showing without a further word that I would have to stay anyways if he wanted it that way.

"Well thank you for pushing me under the bus like that. Really appreciate it." "I am so sorry. But I was serious, I can't lose this babysitter. She got Jamie to eat vegetables. VEGETABLES!" Samantha suddenly seemed in a rush, grabbing her jacket and purse and showering me in promises she would make it up to me. Even though we both knew that wouldn't happen and wasn't necessary. Suddenly having to stay longer was normal. I just hated that it had to be today. And because of him.

I heard the door close behind Sam and I stood there for a second before putting my bag down again. Usually, I would have followed the artist, asking if I could somehow help, but nahhh... my ego was bruised up enough now, especially remembering the little dance. I closed my eyes. Fucking hated the guy. Always had. Well, not quite. I had thought he was cool for about five minutes when he had come in the first time. We had heard about him for quite a few months before, I think I had even seen pictures of him at some point, but those were nothing compared to him in real life. He came in all cheekbones and sharp chin and an all grey outfit, quick pace, observant gaze. Incredibly hot. He had also completely ignored me.

That's how it had started - a bruised ego. He couldn't know that it was my weak spot. Having studied art and its management and now feeling like a better secretary at times, when my colleagues and I were doing all the behind the scenes work while Chris worked very little hours and ended up with all the money and recognition. I was aware this wasn't the only field of work where this was the case, but it still frustrated me... I had imagined my life in the last years of my 20s to be a bit more glamorous than living in a tiny apartment on the outskirts of the city... spending my Friday night waiting for some rude artist dude to leave so I could lock up.

But what I perhaps hated most about him... was that I admired him. - Purely for his art. Really. Even the fact that he kept acting as if I wasn't around every time he came in didn't mean I couldn't admit that. At least to myself. The stories behind his huge colleagues were clever and thought through, but even without context, the pure aesthetics were mesmerizing. It was the kind of art that touched something deep inside of you and standing in front of it I always had a hundred questions. Whenever he brought in a new piece I was the first one to sneak a peek in the back rooms before it was hung.

"I don't get why you have such a problem with him. He is just... quiet. I think he might even be shy... stop being so sensitive and just ask him out already." I had almost strangled Sam for that comment a couple of weeks back. Stop being so sensitive. What did that even mean? Comments like that made me want to cry and scream at the same time, which probably would have been perceived as even more sensitive, but when had insensitivity become something to strive for? I had only kept quiet because I liked Sam and I knew what she had tried to say. At least I thought so. That I might have given less of a shit if I hadn't been rather attracted to Namjoon. Even though I had never mentioned it, she just knew. She knew if I didn't care about something I didn't waste my time on it. But if something made me angry or upset there was usually more to it. I hated that she could read me that easily. But he was still a dick and I still wanted to go home.

He took his sweet time. After an hour I walked up to him, a little speech prepared in my head about how he could come back first thing tomorrow. But when he turned around he just raised a hand between us to keep me from interrupting and turned away again. I hadn't seen that he was on the phone. "No, it's nothing, just one of the gallery employees." I heard him say and okay... if I wasn't about to explode before I was now. I stood there for a minute, fuming, and then simply walked back to the office area, my hand shaking when I started turning off the gallery lights one by one. It wasn't as satisfying as I had hoped but still felt good. Two minutes later the only lights still on were the one above my head and the one in front of the door. I would at least give him a clear direction where to head, he seemed to need it.

When Namjoon appeared out of one of the dark corners he looked even more annoyed than usual. Looking my direction through squinting eyes and his tongue pushing against the inside of his cheek. "Seriously?" he yelled my way and almost walked into one of the little flyer shelves. Wasn't the first time I had seen that happen to him though so maybe that had nothing to do with the light.

I felt oddly triumphant. By the time I had put on my coat and turned off the remaining lights, ready to finally lock up, Namjoon had almost found his way, standing in the open door, still on his phone. A little groan from my side when he didn't even notice that I was standing behind me went by unnoticed. Or simply ignored. But instead of the appropriate clearing of the throat or the maybe less polite squeezing past him, I just put my hands on his back and gently pushed him forward a bit, until his feet hit the pavement and he turned around. Dropping his hand with the phone in it, for a second he looked like he wanted to push back. Or trample me.

"Okay, what the hell is your problem, Charlotte?" His voice was hoarse. His eyes dark. God, he was hot. I hated him so much. "You." I simply replied and stared at him for a second, then turned around and locked the two locks on the door before stepping over to the alarm system. I couldn't help feeling smug because apparently, he knew my name. I imagined him staring at the back of my head because he was flustered, but couldn't be sure. All I knew was that when I turned around again a minute later he was still standing there, his arms crossed in front of his chest, his lips pressed together forming a straight line and watching me.

"Do you always act like that at work around people who could get you into trouble?" He was right, he could get me into trouble. But I was too fired up now, my heart racing. "Is that a threat?" "An observation." "Only around the ones I don't like." "Cool." "Great." "Enjoy the dance party. Sounds shit."

And with those words he had turned around, coat flying open in the wind, unfortunately making him look really cool as he walked away and I ABSOLUTELY HATED HIM. I kept my mouth shut and just walked off in the other direction, realizing minutes later that my car was parked the other way, but I kept walking for a while before I finally turned around. It took a while to calm down and only cuddling up to my cat on the couch to trash tv finally did the job. But by then I had realized something I wasn't sure I liked too much. Yeah, I thought he was a prick. And yeah I should have just played it cool. Would have been much smarted in many regards. But I also had somewhat enjoyed myself in the most fucked up way.

Seeing that stern look, that intense posture as he was towering over me... man, I'd literally piss him off on purpose.

More chapters on AO3

[decayedflower]

Stranger II

⋆ gif is mine

Pairing: Yang Hongwon x Reader

Genre: Underground rapper!Hongwon, Barista!Reader | angst, fluff

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Don’t get attached. This was his number one rule. Attachment means getting hurt. Attachment means vulnerability. You are the only person you can trust. So how could she so easily sneak past and break the walls he had worked so hard to build around his heart when all she is, is a stranger?

Warnings: cussing, some angst, hamin being a noodle

A/N: Sorry this took forever to upload, life happens ya know? Next chapter should be more exciting as the ball gets rolling. Hope you guys enjoy :)

You told yourself that no matter how in love you were with someone, you could detach yourself from your emotions enough so that—should the day come—you could live your life without them.

Looking at yourself now, you admit you’re a little ashamed. You couldn’t stop bawling your eyes out for 2 weeks straight. You guess you didn’t do as good a job ‘detaching’ as you thought you did.

You mentally slap yourself. You once lived your life without him bitch, you can do it again. 

It was on a rainy Monday afternoon that you found yourself in bed—cheeto dust on your titties—marathon watching Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo. Curse Nam Joohyuk. How could a man be so goddamn perfect? He was handsome, funny, loving—and most certainly not a CHEATER. 

You sigh and decide that you should probably get up and shower before Hyeri comes home and sees your miserable state. You feel bad worrying her so much. She’s always been way too kind and selfless for her own good.

You grab a fresh set of pj’s and determinedly head to the bathroom. The least you could do was stop moping and try to clear your thoughts of him. For both your sakes.

Just as you finish that thought, you catch sight of the item sitting on top of your dresser. Your favorite hoodie. His hoodie. You scowl and toss it into the trash bin. If only all men were like Nam Joohyuk. The world would be a much more peaceful place.

“Sooo, hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You know how Princess Peach is always getting her ass kidnapped?”

You laugh at the odd question. “I do recall the kidnapping of the Princess Peach ass, yes.”

“Well, it just hit me. Why doesn’t the bitch ever fight back? I mean,” Jin places a hand on his hip thoughtfully, “how is it that she manages to get kidnapped by the same dude every single time? She’s a princess. Shouldn’t she have high level security?”

“Huh. I never really thought about that.”

“How could you not! She has marshmallows for bodyguards. It’s outrageous.”

“Does it really matter?” you ask.

He sounds genuinely offended. “Of course it does. You ever see Daisy getting kidnapped?”

“Well, no but—“

“Besides, isn’t it a little ridiculous how there’s this expectation that Mario has to save her? I mean, he’s not even a prince or a knight, he’s a plumber! An italian plumber! The amount of disrespect is just astronomical considering the lengths he goes to—”

“Seokjin why are we talking about this?” You ask, baffled. You take a look at your workstation and head to the stockroom to get more large size cups. Jin trails behind you, obviously upset with your lack of interest in the conversation.

 “It’s a legitimate concern, Y/N. Someone needs to pay attention to these details and it is the duty of I, the consumer, to voice the—whoa whoa whoa, since when do we have oatmeal raisin cookies?!” He screeches mid-rant, staring at a pack of cookies he holds in his hand.

You whip around to have a look, not believing your ears. “What the fuck?”

It’s true. The box of oatmeal raisin cookies sits atop the third shelf, right next to the double chocolate chip cookies.

“The boss sent an email out on Sunday,” Yoongi stands at the doorway holding a box of promotional flyers. If it were possible, you swear tumbleweed would have made its way between the three of you with the silence that follows as you and Jin stare at each other blankly.

“Which,” Yoongi drawls out, “I guess neither of you read.” he states dryly, walking away.

“Who the hell likes oatmeal raisin?” Jin asks defensively. Personally, you couldn’t agree more. Oatmeal cookies on their own were tolerable—it was the raisin part that completely ruined the entire cookie.

“They’re Satan’s spawn,” he scowls, tossing the aforementioned cookie back in the box as if it had personally insulted him. You chuckle and shake your head, walking back to your station with the box of plastic cups.

You start stocking them back up on the counter, making sure it looks neat. 

“Hey Jin,” Yoongi calls out from the front of the store, “can you grab that window marker and write out the menu again? The rain washed some of it off.” He says, examining the missing bits of letters, nose scrunched in annoyance.

You could practically hear the way the older boy starts seething at Yoongi’s lack of use in honorifics. The tips of his ears flare a bright red, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“I’M SORRY, COME AGAIN?! I couldn’t hear you over the DISRESPECT.”

Seokjin takes great pride in being the oldest of the crew. He enjoys taking care of the others as if they were of his own blood, you included. He has a somewhat sarcastic sense of humor—but never overbearingly so—always exaggerating his facial expressions and reactions, which you personally find charming. Seokjin is also infamous for his constant dad jokes, the younger ones usually cringing at their cheesiness and have you bending over in laughter. (The other boys beg you to stop egging him on as it only fuels his desire to keep them going.) That being said, Jin is not someone who gets easily irritated. When it comes to certain things, he is just, well, a bit of a drama queen.

You stifle a laugh, watching as Yoongi pinches the bridge of his nose, a heavy sigh leaving his mouth, very obviously regretting his choice of words. “Hyung, will you please go rewrite the menu outside?”

“Thank you! Can’t you just do that from the get go? I swear you kids are so ungrateful sometimes. I mean, you all seem to forget how I practically raised you brats—”

“Hyung, please get your ass outside or so help me I will go into that break room right now, clock out, take the longest nap of my damn life and just leave you two out here to die.” 

“Alright, alright,” he says, putting his hand up, “I’m going geez. What a drama queen.” He huffs his way to the entrance, shaking his head, marker in hand. “And you guys say I’m the dramatic one.” He scoffs, shaking his head.

Yoongi stands there looking up at the ceiling with his hands on both hips as if silently asking the heavens for a tiny shred of patience.

You snicker behind your hand. You swear hearing those two bicker is your daily source of serotonin. 

It’s 3 more hours into your shift when Hamin shows up at the front counter with his signature soft boy smile.

He first visited the cafe during the summer one day back when you had just been hired. The intense summer heat wave had him coming in search of some shelter from the sun and a drink to cool off. The Grind was promoting the seasonal summer drinks and naturally, as a new hire, you tried your best to advertise it. It was only your second day on the job and in your nervous state you sold him a drink that, to just your luck, wasn’t available that day. You apologized profusely afraid that he would turn out to be a Karen, but Hamin had been very sweet about it. He befriended you after that, making frequent visits to the Grind, declaring that he had found a hidden gem.

After talking to him some more you learned that Hamin had studied psychology for two years at a local college before he decided to drop out and pursue his musical career. Of course he didn’t tell you that last part up until a couple of weeks ago, so you had been under the impression that the reason he spent so many hours at the coffee shop was to study for his exams. You weren’t the type of person to pry into someone’s personal life unless they decided to tell you themselves so you never asked. Ever since Hongwon confessed to you that both he and Hamin were working towards becoming musicians, Hamin began to share more about himself to you. He figured that now that the cat was out of the bag, he could be more open with you. Prior to that day, you knew very little about Hamin’s personal life.

“Hey you! You’re back,” you beam. 

“Yeah, gotta grind,” he pats his bag for emphasis. “Ha! Grind...” he snorts suddenly. “Get it? Cause we’re at...” he gestures to the shop and laughs to himself. He looks goofy standing there in his bright lavender tie dye hoodie, a big contrast to the muted colors of the walls. His tall lean form stands out like a sore thumb. An Adidas baseball cap adorns his head but it’s so washed out you can’t even tell what color it is—or is supposed to be. 

You laugh, shaking your head.

“Oh come on, it was funny,” he says, leaning on the counter.

“It was funny the first couple times Jin said it when I just started working here,” You correct.

“You still laughed though,” he winks at you, making you laugh again. “Anyway,” he straightens up, “Can I get the usual, please?”

You grab a cup and start writing his name. “Just you this time?” 

“Nah, my idiot friend is coming but he’s gonna run late so I’ll just order ahead of him.” He sighs, reaching into his pocket in search of his wallet. “How much is it?” He asks, fumbling through a bunch of receipts and cards.

You wave him off. “On the house.”

“No way, I can—”

“Hamin, dude, relax. You do this every time. I keep telling you, discount: friend. Total: zero.” 

“You gotta let me pay every now and then. I don’t want your coworkers to think I keep coming here to leech off you…”

“Look, if you were really taking advantage of me, you wouldn’t keep disappearing on me for weeks at a time. Consider it an advance payment for when you finally let me hear a song of yours. ”

“Sorry…” He smiles sheepishly, “It’s a deal then. Thanks Y/N, you’re the best,” he grins. You flip your hair dramatically, playing along.

You make his drink and note that work is slow enough, so you head over to his table instead of calling him over.

You place his drink on the table, “so what’re you working on today?” He looks up and thanks you, taking a sip before he answers.

“A solo project. I don’t have anything now that’s worth listening to though…” He says dejectedly. Admittedly, he’s been going though somewhat of a writer's block. 

“That’s okay! I didn’t mean to pressure you. Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be glad to give it a listen if you’re still willing to let me. Good music also takes time, right?” You smile encouragingly.

Someone yells out your name before he’s able to respond. You turn at the sound, “Oh hey!” you exclaim when you see your roommate. You turn back to wish Hamin luck on his writing.

���Thanks for the lunch, Hyeri,” you pat your stuffed tummy in satisfaction. “I forgot to prep mine last night so I was honestly just gonna wait until I got home to eat,” you confess meekly.

She showed up during your shift planning to ask you what kind of food you were in the mood for so she could bring it to you, but Yoongi caught on and sent you on your lunch break so the two of you could eat together instead. Min Yoongi was a godsend. 

“I knew it! Y/N, you have to eat your meals! Do you know how detrimental it is to your health if you’re constantly working and skipping your meals?!” you cower as she scolds you. 

“I know…sorry. I just forgot...” you squeak.

“Ugh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to raise my voice, I just worry about you,” she sighs, taking her seat again.

“And I’m so thankful!” you say quickly placing your hand on hers, “I’m sorry you’re always having to take care of me. I’ll work harder so that I don’t become a burden to you. I promise. I haven’t been myself these days but...just give me some time.”

She grabs your hand with both of hers, “Hey. You’re never a burden to me, Y/N. You’re like a sister to me. And I would never put your emotions against you. You need time to heal and that’s okay. Take it at your pace. I will always look after you, no matter what. Okay?”

Your heart warms at her words. You were so grateful to have her for a best friend. You engulf her in a hug and look at the time. 

“I should head back. My break is just about over. Thank you for everything, Hyeri. Are you staying? I’ll make you a drink. On the house. You can study there?” you ask.

“Well, I was planning on going to my school’s library, but I guess I could use a drink…” She paused for a moment. “Is Jungkook working today?” She asks, hopeful. 

Her crush on your coworker was so amusing. “Unfortunately for you, not today, sorry.” She pouts cutely.

“I’ll make you a green matcha latte?”

“Pretty please.”

You giggle, “Okay, let’s head back then.” 

It was a good thing the two of you decided to eat at the chinese restaurant across the shop, so the walk isn’t long. You came here so often that the kind elderly woman who owned the restaurant had memorized your order. You couldn’t help it that their sweet and sour chicken was bomb as hell. What you would give for that recipe.

You’re internally groaning at the thought of having to go back into work when Hyeri stops in front of the entrance and lets out a low whistle. 

“Whoa, hey. Which one of your coworkers drives a damn motorcycle?!” She points to a sleek, graphite motorcycle parked on the curb, two cars away from yours. 

“Whoa. Uhh...no one, not that I’m aware of. Jin drives a Honda Civic and Yoongi ubers cause of car issues.” You shrug, opening the door. “Must be a customer’s.”

“Well, I don’t know if it’s just me, but that thing is screaming big dick energy.” She says, following behind you. You laugh and smack her shoulder. 

“You say that but what if it’s some old bald dude that listens to metal?” You ask, leading her to a table farther in the back so she can study peacefully. 

“Well err...hopefully not. I’m just saying whoever rides that thing, I wouldn’t mind riding too. Hell, I could ride all night…” she trails off. You bury your embarrassed face in your hands and try to hold in your laughter so you don’t disturb the customers. 

“Oh my god. Stop talking. You’re gonna get me in trouble.” You point at a chair, “Sit here and I’ll bring your drink. Behave,” you warn playfully.

“Yes ma'am,” She winks and points shooter fingers at you. You laugh with a roll of your eyes, heading back to clock in. 

“You seem...distracted.” Hamin says, amusement lacing his words.

“Huh?” Hongwon turns at the accusation with wide eyes.

He sighs. “I mean,” he says crossing his arms, “ever since you got here 15 minutes ago, it’s like you keep looking around for...something.”

“So, you’re saying for the past 15 minutes you’ve been watching me like a creep?” He turns his attention back to the music software in front of him. “I told you I don’t swing that way.” he says, clicking random notes on the half-finished project.

Hamin snorts. “Don’t change the subject. What‘s got you so distracted dude?” He asks, slurping up the remains of his drink through his straw.

“The only distraction here is the eggplant sitting in front of me...” He trails off when you enter the coffee shop with your friend in tow. You’re laughing, giving her a smack on the shoulder playfully at a joke she tells you.

Hamin stops his obnoxious slurping when he follows his friend’s gaze. “Ohhhhh!” he grins.

“What?” He snaps. “No ohhhh. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now.”

“I’m not thinking anything.” Hamin brings his hands up defensively. “Brain empty. No thoughts.” He taps the side of his head with his index finger. “Buuuttt if you were so interested you could’ve just asked, you know.”

“And what would I have asked exactly?” He asks with a tinge of annoyance.

Hamin tsks under his breath, exasperated. “Oh come on. I mean Y/N. You wanted to know if she was working. Am I right or am I right?”

“Why the hell would I wanna know that? I don’t even know her. ”

“Hongwon!” He’s caught off guard at the sound of your voice. He internally slams his own head against the table and forces a smile when you approach the table, avoiding Hamin’s gaze.

“Y/N, hey…”

“Hold on, you know each other already?” Hamin asks obnoxiously, “I only briefly mentioned you to him, but you already know his name!” Hongwon shoots daggers at the side of his head.

“Actually,” Hongwon says through gritted teeth, “we talked for a bit when I was on my way out the other day. It would have been rude of me to not introduce myself since she’s your friend.”

“He was even kind enough to walk with me on the way home even though it was raining. Thanks for that by the way, you really didn’t have to do that.”  Hamin’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Shit. The smile you give him is so sincere that he almost misses what you say completely.

“Really!” Hamin grins, clearly enjoying the situation. He pats his shorter friend’s head in mock endearment. “That’s so sweet of him! I mean, considering he lives in a completely opposite di—” Hongwon sends a swift kick to his shin underneath the table.

“Fuck!” Hamin rubs the spot and laughs through the gritted teeth. “I mean...that’s sweet of him considering he’s normally so shy.” He growls at Hongwon and plasters a smile when he looks back at you. You probably think they’re both lunatics.

“Right…” You laugh, unsure of what’s happening. “By the way, did you want a drink? I’ll make it for you.” You tell Hongwon.

“Oh, uh yeah I was just gonna get an americano. Let me just—” He starts to stand up and take out some cash when you stop him.

“Are you sure that’s okay?” He asks. “I don’t want to get you in trouble…”

“Don’t worry, I get free drinks and pastries since I work here.” You say.

“And she shares them with me because I’m her favorite customer. Right, Y/N?” Hamin wiggles his eyebrows at you. You laugh and pick up his empty cup.

“Is he always this much of a moron when he comes here?” Hongwon asks, scrunching his face in distaste. You laugh and ask them to wait while you bring them coffee. 

Hamin waits until you’re completely out of ear shot before he begins his interrogation. 

“You know, for a pair of strangers, you two seem very well acquainted.” He states, eyes narrowed.

Hongwon scoffs. “You know, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this but somehow you have a really punchable face.”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, but you’re a terrible liar.”

“Oh shut up. I didn’t lie. I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think I needed to.”

“‘I don’t even know her,’” Hamin mimics.

“I don’t know her. I know her name, that’s it. Not the same thing.”

“So you like her.”

He laughs. “What are you, five? How could I like her? I just met her, idiot.”

“You walked her home.” He says pointedly.

“Part way. I only did it because it was getting late and she’s your friend.”

“Ha! Since when do you care about my friends?”

“She’s a girl, it’s different. If something happened to her because I looked the other way, it’d be on my conscience.”

“You live in completely opposite directions.”

“So what?”

“You wouldn’t even do that for me.” Hamin deadpans.

“Yeah but you’re not a cute girl.” He shrugs, crossing his arms.

“So you think she’s cute!” He slams both hands onto the table, leaning forward to peer into Hongwon’s face accusingly. 

“So what? She is cute.” He shoves him away, “that doesn’t mean I like her.”

“Hmm. Okay.” Hamin smirks and leans back in his seat.

“What?” He snaps.

“Nothing,” He says with a look on his face that screams everything but nothing.

Hongwon drags his hands over his face. “You really piss me off, you know that?”

“You may have mentioned that before,” he replies, appearing unbothered.

He’s lucky you decide to come back at that moment. He swears he’d have slapped the smile off his face had he been left alone with Hamin for a minute longer.

You set down the coffee and start to walk back to the counter. “Well, I shouldn’t bother you guys too much so I’ll leave you to it.”

“Wait, Y/N!” Hamin shifts in his seat to face you. “Are you busy Friday?” This puts Hongwon on alert.

 “Hmmm...no, I don’t think I have anything going on actually. Why what’s up?”

“You’ve been wanting to hear some of our music for a while now, right? Well,” he loops an arm around Hongwon’s shoulder, “guess who has a gig that night?”

“No way!” You squeal, covering your mouth with both hands. “Wait, but I thought you didn’t have any music that’s finished.” You frown.

“Well, it’s not that we don’t, I just kinda wanted you to hear our new stuff first. But now that I think about it, this is as good a time as any. If you’re interested, a friend of ours is hosting a party and he asked a couple of artists to play for him. It’s at the Henz Club.” 

“You mean that scary looking club in Mapo-gu?”

“Scary? I mean sure, some odd looking people hang around there, but they’re all pretty chill for the most part. Right Hongwon?” 

Hongwon slaps his arm away. “Right. Well, you’re welcome to come but you don’t have to if you’re uncomfortable.” He supplies. “We’d understand if—oof!”

“Nonsense!” Hamin butts in, shoving his elbow into Hongwon’s side. “You can bring your friend over there if you want, so you don’t have to worry about being alone.” He motions his head in the direction of Hyeri who—not so discreetly—pretends like she hasn’t been trying to make out what the three of you have been talking about for the past 10 minutes.

“Ah, but either way we won’t ditch you after the performance, I promise. How about it?”

Hongwon is still recovering from having the wind knocked out of his lungs and before he knows it, somehow you’re agreeing and Hamin is giving you the details. 

“I’m so excited, I can’t wait to hear you guys.” You say cheerfully. 

“You should see this guy on stage,” Hamin gestures to Hongwon, “he really puts on a show. Like a true rockstar.”

 “You know, you saying that doesn’t make me feel good,” Hongwon says with a frown, sitting back in his chair defeatedly. 

 “Oh and don’t be surprised if you hear a lot of screaming.” He ignores him, “There’s always a lot of fangirls, especially for Hongwon. They literally come in swarms, it's crazy.”

“Oh my god. Stop. You’re so embarrassing.” He groans, looking away.

“Wow, you’re really hyping him up,” you laugh.

“Ignore him. He’s just saying whatever the hell he wants.” 

“No way, it’s really the truth.” He insists, folding his arms across his chest.

“Y/N! We need you in the back!” Yoongi calls out, his head poking out from the staff only door. 

“I gotta go. I guess I’ll see you guys on Friday!” You say, waving. “Coming!” You call out, following after your coworker.

Hamin smiles stupidly as you leave. “Isn’t she sweet!”

Hamin and Hongwon hang around at the café for a few more hours until they decide to grab a bite to eat. For the remainder of the time they spent working on their music, Hongwon had not uttered a single word. The most Hamin had gotten out of him was a “sure” when he suggested they get burgers before heading home.

He exits his car, watching as Hongwon removes his helmet to fix the mess it makes of his hair. 

Sighing deeply, Hamin leans against the side of his car, hitting the park button on his remote. “Come on, don’t be so cold. How long are you gonna give me the silent treatment for?” 

He slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans, dreading to ask but needing to know. “Are you really that pissed off because I invited her?”

Hongwon slips the hollow side of his helmet onto the handlebar and mimics Hamin, leaning against his motorcycle. “Depends,” he says, taking out a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket to light one up, “why’d you invite her?”

Hamin considers his answer carefully, shifting his weight onto the other leg. It’s obvious that Hongwon is already upset, so anything he says will probably get him angry anyway. “I was hoping maybe you guys could hit off,” he says at last, deciding to be honest.

In truth, Hongwon isn’t surprised to hear this—he actually suspected it—but it still pisses him off nonetheless. It wasn’t the first time Hamin tried setting him up with someone. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. This was something he had told him countless times and yet, he continues to pull stunts like this.

“I know you said you aren’t looking for a relationship,” Hamin continues when he proceeds to bring the cigarette to his lips without a reply, “but I just think you could at least talk to her and—“

“And then what? We fall in love, get married and ride off into the sunset?” He cuts him off abruptly.

“No, I just—“ he starts to say but stops when he can’t think of how to word it correctly.

“I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking Y/N went through a bad breakup, and so did I. You think maybe the two of us can find the comfort we couldn’t find with our previous relationships, in each other.” He pauses to take a drag of his cigarette. 

“I’m sorry to burst your bubble, but that's a load of shit. This idea you have that love can just make me forget about all my trauma, is a load of shit.” Hamin flinches at the sudden aggression in his tone. This really didn’t come across the way he intended it to.

“Guess what, I’m fucked up Hamin!” He continues, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. “I have too many damn issues and I don’t need some chick to try to figure me out or fix me. I told you already, I’m happy with the way things are. I’m not gonna play into your stupid games just because you want to play fuckin’ cupid.” Hongwon scowls, taking another drag of his cigarette.

Hamin keeps his gaze on the ground, frustrated with how easily and accurately Hongwon is able to guess what he’s thinking. He didn’t realize how terrible it all sounded out loud. He racks his brain for something—anything—to say and argue that those aren’t his intentions, but Hongwon is speaking again before he’s able to do so successfully. 

“I don’t care if you invite her. Just don’t go expecting anything out of me.”

He nods his head weakly. “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, bro…” He says scratching his neck, “I’m not trying to find someone to fix you...” he trails off.

“It’s cool.” He sniffles, the cold air getting to him. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to snap like that.”

Hamin is taken aback for a second, not expecting him to apologize. He kicks the floor with his sneaker, “S’cool.”

“You still hungry?” Hamin asks, afraid that their little spat would create unnecessary tension between them.

Hongwon tosses his cigarette onto the floor to put it out with his sneaker. “Fuckin’ starving.”

You went home together with Hyeri later that afternoon once your shift was over. It was always nice to go home when the sun was setting and the air felt cooler. You loved how quiet the city got, allowing you to simply be one with your thoughts. 

Unfortunately for you, today was not one of those days.

You release a sigh as you continue to pretend to not notice Hyeri’s constant fidgeting. “Hyeri, if you want to know so badly just ask already.”

She releases a giant breath as if she had been holding it this entire time. “Oh thank goodness because I felt like I was actually going to die if you didn’t say something soon,” she says grabbing your arm excitedly, like a puppy who was just called over by its owner. 

“What were you doing with those two hotties I’ve never seen before?” You couldn’t tell what made her more excited―the fact that she found them so attractive or the fact that you were talking to men other than your coworkers. “Is one of them single?” she stops walking and gasps, “Are they both single?!”

An older lady walking her Chihuahua gives you a scornful look as she passes the two of you and you bring your finger to your lips to shush Hyeri. “Sorry,” she says with a giggle, “but this is huge!”

You pull her along with you to cross the short crosswalk and to the steps of your apartment complex, “It’s not a big deal. Besides, you’ve seen Hamin before.” You say, slipping your house key into the lock and opening the door.

“Okay but, this time there was another guy too. And you guys talked for like 20 minutes! On your shift!” She says, removing her shoes quickly to stand in front of you excitedly. You stop untying your shoelaces to give her a look.

“He’s a friend I made through Hamin. Who is also just my friend,” You tell her slowly as if you were explaining it to a child but you can tell by her smile that she’s not listening. You sigh and slip your work shoes off, putting them in the hallway closet. Hyeri hovers behind you, not wanting to be too pushy but also too worked up to leave you alone.

You stand up straight and turn around. “Okay fine. Hamin invited me to this party,” this already has Hyeri clasping her hands over mouth, “he and his friend are playing a gig for a friend—”

She’s squealing and jumping around before you can finish your sentence. “And they want you there as their plus one! Oh my—”

“But I think Hamin knows about the breakup and he feels bad and that’s why he invited me,” you say quickly. Hyeri stops mid spin to give you an incredulous look. “I mean, they kind of saw the whole thing since it happened at work,” you say glumly.

Hyeri wraps her arms around you when she sees how you deflate at the reminder. “Hey, don’t make such a sad face. You guys have been friends for a while now, right? I haven’t met the guy but I’m sure he invited you because he wants you there and not because he pities you.”

“Sorry. I think I’ve been trying too hard not to think about it so all the negative thoughts are really hitting me now,” you say, resting your head on her shoulder. She always had such a comforting mom warmth to her.

She releases you and gives you a comforting smile. “Do you want to go?”

“Well,” you sit on your bed exhausted, “I actually didn’t know Hamin played music until recently. I’ve really been wanting to hear some of his stuff and apparently his friend does music too..”

“Girl, there’s your answer! Who says you have to spend your days sad and alone after a breakup? If you want to go, go.” She encourages you. She had a point. Although somewhere in the back of your mind, you felt guilty. When Hamin invited you, you were super stoked and set on going but now that you were really thinking about it, you couldn’t help but think of Jaewon.

“I can tell you’re overthinking this,” Hyeri says. “Don’t. You’re a free woman! Free from a man who took advantage of you and didn’t know how to treasure you. Do whatever the fuck you want because it’s no one’s business. It’s not like you’re planning to go sleep around.” She crosses her arms across her chest, “and even if you are guess what, it’s still no one’s business.” She says vehemently.

You pick at your nails and bite your lip. “Okay.”

“Okay?!”

“Yeah, I’ll go.”

She squeals again and launches herself onto you. You land with an oof on your bed, her head barely missing yours by an arm hair. “Oh, one more thing though,” you manage to say from beneath her. “They kind of invited you too.”

Hyeri lifts herself up at this. She stares at you with wide eyes, “what do you mean?”

“I guess they saw us talking together and figured we were friends. Also, they caught you trying to eavesdrop on our conversation.” You tell her.

“Nooooooooooo,” she cries and runs to throw herself onto her bed face flat.

“It was the hiding behind an upside down textbook for me,” you snicker.

“Y/N, please I’m in the middle of dying of embarrassment.”

[alexseanchai]

Fanfic 2020 in Review

I got tagged by @kasienda @noirshitsuji and @marvelousmsmol and I am tagging whoever wants to play!

1) List of fics completed this year in the order they were finished:

*filters own works to complete and updated in 2020*

1 - 20 of 57 Works by AlexSeanchai

nope. *adds filter to include only works of at least 1000 words*

unless otherwise indicated, these are all Miraculous Ladybug:

“don’t bake it lying down”, post-reveal Marichat vs Felix Graham de Vanily

“veracity”, canon divergence from “Ladybug” featuring Mister Bug and Verity Queen (so also Marichat, I guess)

“(no request is too extreme, if) your heart is in your dream”, in which Hawkmoth wins, for the thirty seconds or so before Emilie saves Ladybug and Chat Noir’s lives

“tell me you love me and make me believe it”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire ropes Ladybug into helping plan her civilian self’s escape slash social transition

“kingmaker, oathbreaker”, in which Hawkmoth wins and Emilie watches her son remove himself from the family

“stay and let me watch you break it down” (Twelve Dancing Princesses), a modern setting

“set a course for winds of fortune”, in which trans girl Chatonne Noire has already escaped and Gabriel and Nathalie are trying to bring Gabriel’s son home

“we ground love in a hopeless place”, in which post-reveal Marinette’s attempt to remain resolutely not in love with her partner dissolves like sugar in coffee when they start a pun war

“ring the bells that still can ring”, in which Alya is deeply confused about why Adrien and Marinette are planning a wedding when last night both were single

“burning wishes at both ends (the cold wind and long loud wail remix)”, in which Gabriel made a monkey’s paw wish and Emilie makes another

“words cannot espresso”, in which Marinette’s OC roommate is justifiably worried for Marinette’s safety, and meanwhile Adrien takes care of Marinette

“the compromise of truth” (the chronologically second-earliest part posted to date of nine lives, snake’s eyes), in which Adrien tells his friends how he won some freedom and respect from his father

“At The Present Time”, the Ladrien/Ladynoir marriage proposal follow-up to @art-deco-shrimp‘s  “Your Presents Required”

“j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”, in which the events of canon must just have been a series of dream sequences, Marinette and Adrien both think, until they both arrive at Chloe’s Halloween masquerade dressed as themselves from the dreams

2) Number of words written:

ahahaha no. I am not counting all my scattered fic drafts and trying to figure out what I did and didn’t write in 2020. I refuse.

AO3 says I posted 162K in 2020. it is counting all of keeps you guessing (like any real love), which (a) I started posting in 2019 (b) is co-written by @galahadwilder​; it is counting all of my meta snippets collection, much of which was written in 2019; it is counting the Vimeo passwords for my vids. but I probably cleared 150K by a safe margin.

3) Your most popular fic:

“veracity” has a four-digit kudos count, wow, when’d that happen? this is also the 2020 work with the most hits and the most bookmarks, but “tell me you love me” has four-thirds as many comments as its nearest competitor.

4) Your personal fav:

“cannot break us, not with a thousand swords”, no question about it. this is the one in which Ladybug proposes marriage to Chat Noir via Princess Bride meme on Tumblr. (if you intend to download the work or otherwise to consume it with creator style off, you want the accessible version instead of the primary version.)

5) Your fav scene:

aaaaaaaaa

—okay so this is cheating and I know it, since Uncertain Humors (the one where Marinette/Adrien is both Orpheus/Eurydice and Theseus/Ariadne) is nowhere near finished, never mind posted (maybe I'll get “Sanguine” done to post on my birthday?)

but it is still my favorite of the year. as you might guess from that description of the story, this scene has content notes for character death:

Hell is a maze. Marinette walks.

This acrid passage has little to see but damp stone, seeming blood-stained in the dim carmine light. At about the height of her heart, the faintly glowing thread cuts through the not-clammy air; it ought to be pulsing at the same rate as the heart it's bound to. She might be able to see her own reflection if she looked down at the open sewage pipe, or at one of the puddles that now and again she splashes through, dampening the canvas of her shoes. She might see reflected what's behind her.

She remembers Mme. Mendeleiev lecturing on human physiology. In healthy humans old enough to have learned how, urination is a voluntary action: one may not know which muscles one tenses and relaxes in order to do so, and probably isn't paying attention to those details when one is doing, but one has conscious control over whether one does. Usually. Stress and anxiety mean some people are unable to relax the relevant sphincter muscle and others are unable to stop themselves. It's voluntary for cats, too: it's one way they mark their territories. Cat-boys have other ways.

There is a moment in every human life when all one's muscles relax at once. Some Parisians have had several such moments.

The thread is braided with itself around her left fourth finger, rows of tiny red half-hitch knots, and falls loosely over the back of her hand to loop twice around her wrist. She holds it wrapped between the fingers of her right hand to keep it at a constant tension, as though knitting with this insubstantial thread, so fragile for something two (two dozen, two million) lives hang from—too thin to sew with, no thicker than one strand of his hair. As she walks, she winds it around and around and around her wrist.

Between her ring finger and her right hand, it loops twice.

Marinette's shoe lands in a puddle she didn't see. The rainwater splashes soundlessly onto her bare ankle and on the stone.

(With cat-like tread, upon our prey we steal— It's a very loud song.)

She walks on.

6) A fic or scene that challenged you:

where the firelight fades, no contest. this is the second story I’ve ever been able to stick with more than a couple hundred words past the 20K mark, but it’s easily the twentieth novel-length I’ve begun. (though also, you know that kedreeva post? well, 90K later, I’m less than 15K from completing this 10K fic! I think.) and I have been learning so much about long-form fiction.

there has also been a lot of weeping and tearing my hair. case in point: I just trashed the chapter 15 draft because I figured out the reason it wasn’t going anywhere! I can probably keep the first few hundred words of that draft without any editing, and another few hundred with some revision...

7) A line of writing you’re proud of:

from “j'ai rêvé (so I don't have to dream alone)”:

Everything about their partnership is fragments of sentences in the dream diary Adrien writes in ultraviolet pen. Disjointed flickers of thought even when examined under the black light he hides in the snack cabinet under packets of Super Yoyo sandwich cookies and bags of cheesy Monster Munch potato chips and boxes of petit écolier butter cookies (chocolat noir)—none of which explains the gym-socks smell. All fleeting incoherent flashes, invisible between the mundane lines of La Modification shelved at his bedside between Leroux and Dumas. None of it is solid. Adrien has more proof his room's haunted.

okay let me break this down for you!

* Adrien started a dream diary to make sense of the memories

* in invisible ink, in a book that (according to Wikipedia) is thematically appropriate and won’t (if Gabriel sees it) look like anything other than Adrien developing an interest in French literature

* shelved between Phantom of the Opera and The Three Musketeers

* look I didn’t come up with the name “black light”

* or “chocolat noir” for what English speakers call “dark chocolate”, or “petit écolier” (that is, “little schoolboy”) for that sort of butter cookie

* also not my fault that “chocolat noir” sounds remarkably like “Chat Noir”, which, attentive readers may have noticed, is not a name that appears in the story after the header and before Miraculous Cure

* I found the website of a store in Boston, Massachusetts that caters to French expats, and the yo-yo cookies and the monster chips were right there in the photos, y’all

* the snack stash and the black light live in the cabinet where, in canon, the Camembert lives; yes, that cheese smells in the real world like gym socks

* this story’s akuma was not able to affect anything but squishy human memory: nobody affected remembers anything about Ladybug or Chat Noir or Hawkmoth, not in any solid way, not even when they read news articles about the subject, and this includes Marinette and Adrien not being able to see or hear or remember their own kwamis—but you know what Adrien’s Insta post about his poltergeist and Adrien’s Insta post with the floating sock don’t show and don’t explicitly refer to?

* I love this paragraph so much (my housemates may have been lovingly mocking me over it)

8) A comment that touched you:

there are people (y’all know who you are) who said y’all are studying my style. I ded of blush.

9) Something that inspired your writing:

by volume of fic drafts that can be blamed on any particular person, the winner is probably @norakwami​

10) Your proudest accomplishment (that one scene; finally finishing that one fic; posting your first fic; etc):

so that longest-story-ever-written record I set in 2007 with the 89.5K story that, till where the firelight fades, was the only story I’d gotten much past 20K?

I broke that fucking record!

and then I deleted the draft of firelight chapter 15 😭

11) Do you have any writing goals for the next year?

I’m starting work on a fantasy novel, a Sleeping Beauty retelling in which I explore (among other things) the economic consequences of the king’s ordering all the spinning wheels burned, and I want to make significant progress on that. and I want to not make my hands any worse; I kind of need those!

(breaking news alert: bodies fucking suck. so does giving yourself repetitive stress injuries in doing one and a half to two people’s worth of work for an organization that was never ever going to pay you more than one person’s worth of pay.)

[krsnbgirl]

Fly High! || Kageyama x Fem!Reader || Part 5.5

Summary: You head to Ukai’s store to have a conversation. He learns about some of your past and what your future goals were before coming to Karasuno. You both also come up with some new ideas that can help during practice. 

Pairing: Kageyama Tobio x Fem!Reader

Genre: Rom-Com, Slice of Life, Sports

Warnings: Ukai smokes a cigarette (?)

Chapter’s Word Count: ~1.4k

Author’s Note: Side chapter to learn a little bit more of your past as a volleyball player and some of your new responsibilites as their manager! It’s just a cute little small thing I decided to write to help with the context of the story. Hope you guys like it! <3 Part 6 should be up by the end of this week! 

Taglist: @misnmatchedsox​ @monviemoo​ @love-beyond-words​

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 5.5 || Part 6 || Masterlist

It was a cool morning when you waved goodbye to your mom and skateboarded towards Sakanoshita. The temperature was just right and with the weekend in full effect, the streets were bustling with families and friends enjoying their time off. You smiled to yourself as you turned the corner and cruised through different alleyways to cut the time from being on the main streets. It felt nice to finally have a clear mind and a set goal for yourself. For the longest time, it was as if the path in front of you was endless. Whenever you thought about volleyball, flashbacks of your last game constantly plagued your mind. But recently, thanks to all your new friends, your mind was filled with all the new memories you were able to make with the sport. Just like how Tanaka and Nishinoya would always fanboy over Shimizu and you would have to be the one to drag them away from her. Moments with your fellow first years: Hinata always coming into your classroom to hang out with you, Yamaguchi and Tsukishima grouping up with you during free periods to go over the class material, and Kageyama constantly asking you for critiques whenever you helped him practice with Hinata. Sugawara would always check in on you to make sure that you were keeping up with school and Daichi would check in to make sure that you were having your meals. Asahi would try his best to help you with carrying the water if Shimizu was busy with Takeda and Ukai, reassuring you that it wasn’t a hassle and that it was his way of hanging out with you during school hours. 

You smiled to yourself and leaned your head back, enjoying the warm sun rays that were beaming down on you. It was a blessing in disguise to be dragged into their world, no your world, once again. You had missed the feeling of the ball in your hands and feeding off of the hunger and determination that radiated off of the players in the gym. The new found warmth you felt whenever you were with them felt like a new beginning for you. And maybe that’s what you’ve been needing for the longest time: a clean slate from your past and a fresh mind to fall in love with the sport all over again. Stretching your arms, you hummed your favorite song and smiled widely when you saw the store’s front right in front of you. 

Skidding to a stop, you kicked your board into your arms before going into the store. You passed by the aisles to try and find Ukai, but he was nowhere to be found. With a shrug, you set your skateboard on top of one of the empty tables and decided to pick out some snacks. 

“Oi Coach! Where are you?” you asked as you skimmed the shelves of chips in front of you. 

“In the back! I’ll be right out, kid!” he yelled back. 

“Osu~” you replied back and grabbed your favorite bag of chips before heading towards the refrigerated section in the front. 

As you grabbed a cold bottle of Ramune, Ukai emerged from the back room and ruffled your hair. 

“Thanks for coming out kid, I know this isn’t your ideal way of spending your weekend, but I needed your help with the boys.” he said as he grabbed his notebook and pen from behind the counter. 

You smiled and waved it off. “It’s fine, coach. I’m glad I can help.” 

The two of you sat down at the table and you set your skateboard on the floor. You leaned against the back of the chair and crossed one leg over the other as he mirrors your actions with his arms cross against his chest. 

“(L/N) (F/N). Chidoriyama’s infamous female wing spiker and pinch server. Currently on hiatus due to a torn ACL.”

You chuckled and raised an eyebrow at the older man. “Yes, that is I.” 

“How did you get into volleyball?” 

“My dad; he used to play during his high school and university days. When I was younger, they wanted to figure out what kind of extracurricular activity to put me in. My mom put me in dance while my dad put me in volleyball. I didn’t like how stuck up the kids in my ballet class were, so I dropped it and just had more fun with volleyball.” 

“And how long have you been playing?” 

You grabbed your chips and opened the bag. Ukai shook his head when you offered him some and you shrugged before answering. 

“Hm...probably since I was like six or seven? My dad started off with just receiving and then when I got good at that, he taught me serving before putting me in weekend classes.” 

“That’s a long time kid, I’ve seen some of your plays recently and I can see you be a lot of help with the team. Well, that is until you’re ready to personally become a part of the girl’s team.” 

“The girl’s team?” you asked more to yourself then towards him as you munched on some of the chips. 

“C’mon, I’m assuming you’ve dreamt about making it big. It’s just a matter of time until your body is back in top shape.” 

“Coach, I barely told you last night that I agreed to be manager. Let’s take it one step at a time, alright?” you laughed and he sheepishly smiled back at you. 

“Yeah, you’re right, sorry I was getting ahead of myself.” Ukai laughed and then cleared his throat. “So what do you think of the boys so far?” 

“Hm…” you started as you tried to gather your thoughts and opened your bottle of Ramune. “I think they’re okay so far. Some of them still need to improve on their receives, Kags and Shoyo still need to improve on their quick combo, and overall the team dynamic needs to improve. We just need to nitpick and note down the smaller aspects of it for their next training camp.” 

“True, that’s what I began to notice as well. We can start off with different drills and solidify on the current struggles for now. Then after the camp we can get down to the finer details.” 

You nodded your head in agreement and said, “Yeah, that sounds like a solid plan for now.” 

He sighed in relief and relaxed in his chair. “Thank god you’re here, kid. It gets stressful sometimes being the only one coming up with plays.” 

You laughed as Ukai’s typical grumpy face relaxed and got up to toss your trash away. “No prob, coach. Glad I can use my expertise again.” 

“Ah, that reminds me, I need you to come up with different plays the boys can try out. I want to add more towards the second year since we’ve been focusing too much more with our starting lineup.” Ukai said as rested his arms behind his neck. 

“You got it coach.” you smiled at him and gave him the ‘okay’ sign. He watched as you picked up your board and motioned towards the door. 

“Well if that’s all you needed…” 

“Ah, wait!” he said while getting up from his seat and went towards the counter. He rummaged around for a paper bag and grabbed the tongs that was hanging off the handle of the heater for his family’s infamous buns. 

“Compensation for coming out today. Your snacks are also on the house.” he cheekily smiled. 

You gasped and smiled excitedly, jogging towards the counter and watched him fill up the bag. 

“What was your next goal if you weren’t injured?” he asked. 

You played with one of the wheels of your board and pursed your lips. “I...was supposed to go to Niyama High with my libero and captain.” 

“Niyama?! Why didn’t you follow through?” 

Silently, you motioned towards your knee as your expression deadpanned. 

“Oh, right.” 

You rolled your eyes and smirked. “C’mon coach, don’t tell me you’re getting old already and having short term memory.” 

He clicked his tongue and whacked you on the head with the rolled up newspaper by the cashier. You laughed and grabbed the bag he slid towards you. 

“You know I’m kidding, but anyways, it’s as cliché as it can be. I needed a fresh start and Yu-nii suggested I go to Karasuno. He’d show me the ropes and I’ll be on my merry way.” 

“Would you ever consider transferring back?” he asked as he lazily sat down on his chair behind the counter and took out a cigarette. 

You immediately shook your head as you made your way towards the door. He lit it up and blew some out, settling into his usual routine at the store. 

“Nah, the team is family now. So that means Karasuno is my home. But don’t tell the boys I told you that.” you smirked before saluting at the older man and exited the store. 

[mytwilightimagines13]

Amnesia (Book Three)(Part Three)

Revenge

It had been very empty. Maeryn had no idea what to do with herself. When Felix told her Alec was dead, she was empty. But she had noticed something else as well. She no longer felt loyal towards Aro as she used to feel. She guessed because he was dead and now the Volturi had no longer a leader. As a matter of fact, it no longer existed . Her whole coven was gone in just mere hours. She was one of the remaining ones alive, but she knew she was hunted on. She had to be alert, but at the same time she wanted to end it all. Perhaps it was alright if the Romanians came back for her, to kill her off. At least then she would be with Alec, even real hell would be better than staying here without him. Empty. “Maeryn, come on. You have to hunt.” Felix said. Maeryn just laid on her side like she had been for the past three weeks. She never moved. The thought of hunting made her throat dry and burning with the desire, but she couldn’t feel the mental energy to get up. “If you hunt I will have a surprise for you. Come on. It will be fun.” Felix said. Maeryn sighed, her first sigh in three weeks, and finally sat up. “Fine. Let’s go then.” Drenthe had many forests, and many ways for people to get lost and not be found. So they started the hunt. They soon found two hikers with their dog. A woman and a man. The thing was, Maeryn didn’t feel that comfortable killing anymore. She took a closer look and realised these two humans looked a lot like her birthparents. The woman had thick, black, curling hair that fell beautifully around her pale, oval face. Her eyes where as green as the forest around her and she was thin and short. The man on the other hand was tall, he had a slightly tanned skin and had deep blue eyes. His hair was graying but streaks of his dirty blond hair was still visible. He was well build, maybe slightly overweight but due to his tall figure, his extra weight was well spread over his body. And then there was their little dog. A beautiful, blond Labrador. His coat was shiny and had different shades of yellow. His beautiful brown eyes showed he loved life, and he was curious for the different smells he smelt on the trees and the sounds he heard. Of course his hearing was much better than a human’s hearing, so he had heard the deer a couple trees away, but he didn’t even think twice about leaving his humans. “Ready?” Felix whispered. But Maeryn couldn’t do it. She shook her head no and ran off. Why she couldn’t do it was simple. It would feel like killing her parents all over again. Of course she knew this wasn’t her parents, but they looked so much alike that she couldn’t even bear the thought. She came into a meadow and collapsed onto the ground, her arms hugging her body, sobbing dry tears. Dry tears for Alec, and for her parents she had totally forgotten about the past eleven years. She had learned that humans are worthless. They had no greater purpose than to feed on. And for a very long time she believed it. But now, she was doubting herself. She made the decision to at least no longer kill innocent humans. Only the trash. No one would miss them. No one. Felix ran to her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he asked. The same phrase he had been repeating lately, trying to help her at least continue her life the best way she could without her mate. Felix never had a mate so he wasn’t very familiar with the feeling himself. Of course he had seen the impact it had on Marcus but he never could imagine the feeling of losing your other half. “They looked so much like my parents, Felix. So much. Even the dog resembled my old dog. I just couldn’t. I simply couldn’t.” she said. Felix sighed. “Come on then. Let’s go to Amsterdam and grab some pimps and junkies. How about that?” he said. Maeryn nodded her head and followed Felix to the Dutch city of sin. Maeryn groaned in satisfaction as she dropped the pimp on the ground, completely drained from his blood. “Feeling better?” Felix asked. Maeryn nodded her head. “Much better. So tell me, what is the surprise? You have my full attention.” Maeryn

said as Felix and her made their way back to the cabin. “Well, how about a little revenge?” he asked, a huge smirk plastered on his face. Maeryn looked at him confused. “What do you mean by that, Felix?” “I mean that I happen to know that Vladimir and Stephan are here, in the Netherlands. They are in Rotterdam trying to gain more vampires for their new forming reign.” Felix explained. Maeryn stopped dead in her track and smirked. “Let’s go then.” Maeryn followed Felix and soon a huge mansion came in view. It was white, with a black roof. Ivy was growing on the sides of it, leaving the windows open. There was a huge fountain before the entrance and a fence that protected the property. Maeryn and Felix climbed over the fence and quietly made their way into the mansion. Maeryn felt her energy flowing back through her body. The thought of killing her mate’s killers was exciting and the thought of their dead was very satisfying indeed. Felix killed the guards before they could alarm the owners and Maeryn quietly climbed into the attic. The attic was empty, apart from a few very old paintings in paper wrap to protect them from the damage of time. Maeryn walked around the mansion and found that the owners where not home yet. So Maeryn decided to be dramatic and grabbed a bag of blood from the fridge and poured it in two of the remaining wine glasses. “Better have a drink while we wait.” She said as she gave Felix a glass. Felix chuckled and took the glass, quickly taking a sip. “Hmm, AB. And quite a good one that is. No traces of alcohol, nicotine or drugs.” Felix said. Maeryn took a small sip and the cooled liquid quenched her thirst slightly. She indeed could taste that the blood was really clean. It was delicious. She quickly took another sip and sat down on the sofa chair. She crossed her legs and waited patiently while playing with her glass, occasionally taking a sip. Then the moment came where the two vampires had been waiting for. Stephan and Vladimir walked in, ready to attack. Without a doubt had they smelled the two hostile vampires on their property and they were very cautious. None of them possessed any special talents and Maeryn was sure to kill them quickly with her gift. “Welcome home gentleman. Drink?” she asked as she poured another bag of blood into the last two remaining wine glasses. The two vampires where frozen in their place. “Oh come now. I first like to have a small chat over a drink. We have much to discuss.” Maeryn said as she stood up, grabbed the two glasses and held them out for Vladimir and Stephan to take. They hissed slightly and Felix cracked his knuckles. “If you’d like to live, you will take that drink and sit down.” He said threatening. Vladimir and Stephan shared a quick look before they took the glasses and sat down on the couch, opposite of the sofa. In between the sofa chair and the couch was a coffee table made of glass. “So, now that we can have a polite conversation, I would like to ask you a few questions. First off, where are Tanya and Kate?” Maeryn asked, taking a small sip of blood from her glass. “They are dead. We disposed of them. Weird ones with their weird diet. They are quite a shame to the vampire world.” Vladimir said. “Hmm. Too bad.” Maeryn said and she let a short silence fall between them. The tension was clearly feel able in the room but no one dared to break it yet. “Who where your allies besides them and who survived?” Maeryn asked after a few seconds. “Basically everyone who also was there the 31st of December back in 2006. Except for the Cullens. They refused to play a part in this war. I guess they never did any of us any harm, so we let them be.” Stephan said. “For a coven of that magnitude, they are sure very peaceful. They just wished to live in peace.” Vladimir said, admiration gleaming slightly through his words. So Cullens had no part in her mate’s death. “How many survived?” Maeryn asked very calmly. “Almost no one. The amazon clan went back to their home afterwards, along with the Irish coven and French coven. Gerratt is still out there.

We have no idea what happened to him. He fled after Kate died, after first putting his head back on his body, of course.” Stephan said quickly, feeling the threat growing. Maeryn nodded her head and took another sip of her blood. The two vampires on the couch hadn’t even drank a single drop of blood. They knew that the chances of survival was slim. “Hmm. It is sad actually.” She said calmly. Stephan and Vladimir shared a look of fear before Vladimir softly asked. “What is?” “That your answers where not really satisfying.  Meaning I will make your death as slow as I possibly can.” Maeryn stood up and dropped the glass, spilling blood on the white, fluffy carpet that laid beneath the coffee table. Vladimir and Stephan hissed and jumped up, but Felix grabbed both of them and made them kneel down, just like Kate made Alec kneel down when they killed him. Maeryn smirked and watched the two vampire’s struggle under Felix’s strong grip. “So, who will have the honour to live the longest? After all, you will go down in history as the last, remaining member of the Romanian coven. Exciting, isn’t it? Knowing that a coven who survived for centuries is about to end, for good. Oh, how I am going to savour this moment for the rest of my existence.” A small, girlish giggle escaped Maeryn’s lips. But it did not sound pleasant at all. No. It sounded evil. This was the giggle of a woman who was about to avenge her mate. “Well, let’s see. Stephan you held me down while Vladimir here ripped Alec’s head off. So I guess it only seems fair that he will get the honour, don’t you think?” she asked in a sugar sweet voice. Stephan growled and tried to break free of Felix’s grip but to no avail. Maeryn smirked. “Now them. Let’s really get down to business, shall we Stephan?” Maeryn said as she held her hand out in front of her, her hand open. She felt her rage fill her body, making it feel warm as her gift slipped through it to the palm of her hand and fingertips. She locked her gift on Stephan’s body and kept him there. Very slowly, she closed her hand, feeling his life flow out of his body and into her hand. Stephan was barely alive, cracks forming all over his body and face. Maeryn felt his life in her palm, and she slowly closed her hand completely, crushing his life and his body. All that there was left was a pile of ash. Maeryn smirked, feeling very satisfied as she turned to Vladimir. The one who had done the deed and had ripped her mate’s head off. He looked at the pile of dust that had been his most loyal companion for centuries just mere seconds ago. And he knew that it would not take long before he too would lay in a small pile of ashes. Vladimir realised in that moment that he had killed the wrong mate. Maeryn was still fairly young, but the love she had for Alec was amazingly large. Vladimir knew that there was nothing he could do about it and closed his eyes. He imagined that he would soon lay back in his beautiful mate’s arms. The one that had been taken away from him many centuries ago. In the last battle with the Volturi before only Stephan and he where left. Vladimir slowly felt the cracks forming, he felt them breaking every limb in little pieces. It hurt really bad. Not even vampire venom was this painful. He could feel every little crack from, and then the most painful moment of his life happened, but shorty is was all black around him as his body was no longer more than a pile of ashes. Maeryn felt really satisfied and Felix smiled. “Come on. Let’s go. Oh, and remind me to never get on your bad side.” Maeryn laughed. “I will.” “So are you sure? We could travel together if you’d like?” Felix asked. Maeryn had decided she wanted to see the world for her own. She wished to be alone for a while. Maybe a few decades. “I am sure Felix. I need this. Besides, I will make sure to contact you as much as I can.” She promised. Then, Felix did something he had never done before. He carefully hugged her small frame. Maeryn was shocked but slowly responded the hug by wrapping her own arms around his waist. “Be careful out there. I

will miss you little one.” He said as he brotherly placed a kiss on top of her head. “I will miss you too.” She said before letting go. She gave him one last smile and then she ran off. Off to see the world for her own.

[sheeple]

The intern | 14: The Monday after

GIFS NOT MINE. THIS IS ALL FICTION. Genre(s): intern!au / fluff / mild angst Group(s): NCT / Red Velvet Pairing(s): Moon Taeil x fem!reader Summary: The new Elysion Publishings intern is the youngest they ever had. It’s not a problem until she grabs the attention of the IT guy. Warning(s): Age-gap of five years A/n: Look who b a c k [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist]

I rub my eyes as I walk out of my apartment building. I almost didn’t close an eye last night since my body’s buzzing with excitement. I mean, who wouldn’t when you get into your first real relationship.

I suddenly hear the honk of a car and I look up, worried that I walked into the busy morning traffic without looking midst my thinking.

Instead, I see Taeil with his car in front of me with a bright smile. A smile automatically spreads on my face and I walk towards him, to give him a hug.

“Good morning”, I say with a bright smile as I Taeil kisses me on my forehead. “What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up for work, of course.” He turns around and opens the car door for me to slip in. 

I put my backpack at my feet and put on my seatbelt as Taeil jogs over to the other side.

“How did you sleep?”, he asks as we drive away, his eyes scanning the side streets for incoming traffic.

“I didn’t sleep a lot but when I finally closed my eyes, I slept great. You?” I place my elbow on the middle console and lean my head on it while looking towards him.

“I slept like a baby because I was visited by an angel in my dreams.” he wiggles with his eyebrows and I immediately know what he means.

I groan and slap his hand that rests on the middle console. “So cheesy.”

Taeil smirks and grabs my hand and intertwines our fingers, bringing our hands to his lips and placing a soft kiss on my knuckles. 

If I saw it by other people, I would have gagged. But for some reason, I don’t mind. Maybe it’s the person who does it or it is because I am growing soft. 

We arrive soon after at the parking space of Ely and we hop out of the car, still holding each other's hand as we walk into the lobby. 

Before we walk through the security gates stops Taeil us and turn towards me. 

“I have to be in the server room so I have to part with you, my sugar drop. What’s on your agenda today?” 

I frown and cringe at the stupid nickname he gave me. “First of all, ew. Secondly, at ten I have a call with my teacher and team leader Byun about my evaluation and show him around the department. But I’m free at lunch.”

Taeil smiles. “Great. I’ll see you for lunch between half-past twelve and one?”

I nod and give him a  kiss on his cheek before sending him off. “Now go before you’re late.” 

He waves one last time before almost bumping into someone and walking away. I shake my head and turn around, scanning my pass and walking towards the elevators. 

Suddenly, Johnny and Wendy appear out of nothing and drag me away. They push me into an unoccupied room and sit me down in one of the many chairs. 

“Spill”, grins Johnny and leans against the doorframe. So I start to tell about our evening. About the fire, the diner, and the necklace.

“Does that mean..?”, questions Wendy with the biggest smile on her face and I nod shyly, hiding my face behind my hands.

The two of them cheer loudly and high fave each other, jumping up and down. I expected positive feedback but this positive? Never guessed in a million years.

“So did you two...” Johnny wiggles with his eyebrows and I scrunch my nose in disgust. 

“Ew, of course not! Who do you think I am?”

Johnny nods. “True. You wouldn’t have─”

Wendy holds up her hand. “Don’t you dare to finish that sentence.” She glares at him before looking at her phone. “Come on, ‘Yong is looking for us.”

When Johnny told Taeyong the news, he flipped. He wouldn’t stop smiling and grinning the whole morning. I also didn’t miss the exchange of money between the two guys. 

“I would get 25.000 Won if you guys ended up together after your date”, explains Taeyong with a big fat smirk on his face.

I roll my eyes. Boys will be boys.

I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around. Team leader Byun smiles at me as he has a clipboard under his arm. “Everything is set up in meeting room 3.”

I quickly grab my laptop and wave goodbye to my friends as Byun and walk towards the meeting room and he turns on the fogging of the glass. 

“Are you nervous?”, questions Byun as I set up my laptop to the larger screen. 

I hum. “Not really. Well... a bit? If that makes sense. My grade is depending on how well I explain. And of course, how you filled in the form I send you.”

Byun whips out two sheets from his clipboard and places them on the table. “I send them to your teacher and we’ll go through them before the call begins.”

“Okay”, I nod with a sigh, my palms sweaty.

“The first question, the student is professionally informed. Out of an Inadequate, Sufficient, and Outstanding, I gave you an Outstanding.” Mr Byun glances at me and I smile brightly. “After the last review, she began to ask more questions and has been progressing greatly.”

“That was definitely one of my learning points, to not be afraid to ask more question. I try, it’s not always easy.” I scratch the back of my hand, a nervous habit of mine.

Byun smiles proudly. “Two: the student is motivated. Outstanding. Despite moving to the other side of the world and being in a foreign country, you have always been very motivated. When everyone was busy and you didn’t have an assignment, you asked around to help the others.”

Byun nods. “I asked around the department, and they all greatly appreciated it. Especially during Black Friday when everyone had a lot to do.”

I run a hand through my hair, forgetting it is in a low ponytail. “I just... thought it was normal? And I enjoy helping others!”

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. Just make sure that nobody could misuse your generosity. Continuing, number three: the student works independently on their tasks. Another Outstanding. Absolutely. When I asked if she finished something, she already had sent it to me or someone else for a quick check. Only thing, please let it know so nobody has to ask for the status.”

Byun chuckles as he sees me nodding. “Yeah, I sometimes can be pretty caught up in work and forget about notifying you.”

“Fourth question: the student is communicative and socially skilled in dealing with both colleagues and customers. Outstanding. Y/n has a very professional attitude and is a full-fledged college within an adult environment.”

"And the last question. The student works focused on their learning goals. Outstanding. As I said earlier, she has been working on asking more questions and it shows that she still is learning every day. And that’s perfectly normal.”

A blush creeps up my cheeks as I can’t handle the number of compliments I have received in ten minutes. “Thank you, Team leader. I greatly appreciate the feedback.”

A content sigh leaves his lips. “It all good. You are a delightful person and pleasant intern.”

I and wipe away a tear harshly. “Stupid tear and overemotional personality”, I grumble as I grab a tissue that Byun holds out for me. 

“Oh stop you, otherwise I’m going to cry too”, he snivels and looks up at the ceiling, obviously blinking away some tears. I laugh and blow my nose, wiping my eyes before throwing the tissue in the trash.

With a sigh, he shakes his head. “Okay, the sad moment is over and now we’re going to think happy thoughts. We don’t want your teacher to see us with all red eyes and tear-stained cheeks, do we?”

I laugh and nod, done with the whole sappy stuff. 

With a sigh, I take place on one of the tables with Wendy, Johnny, and Taeyong in the company’s cafe. I pull out the sandwich I made this morning from a plastic bag. The three others take place in front of me and I frown. 

“What’s wrong with you guys? Why is nobody sitting next to me?” I look at them with my eyebrows furrowed. 

“Because lover boy is coming down this way with his friend”, says Taeyong with a grin and I turn around. Taeil meets my eyes and quickens his pace, Sicheng trailing behind him.

Taeil kisses my forehead before sitting down next to me. Sicheng looks at his friend in disgust and reluctantly takes place. 

“Hi Sicheng”, I chuckle, ignoring my pouting boyfriend. He gives me a short nod with a smile. “How are you?”

“Baby”, Taeil cuts Sicheng off, fluttering his eyelashes. Johnny and Wendy both gag as Taeyong looks at us disgusted. 

I shake my head, unwarping my sandwich from the plastic bag. “You’re too much, Moon Taeil.”

“How went the call with your teacher, by the way?”, asks Taeil with a slight smile on his lips. 

“She and Team leader Byun cried”, laughs Wendy and I kick her under the table. 

“Was I that bad?” He frowns and rubs my arms, “I’m sorry babe.”

“Oh no, on the contrary! I got amazing feedback, here look.” I give Taeil and Sicheng my feedback. “I cried because of all the compliments and I couldn’t handle it.”

Taeil shakes his head and kisses my temple as he lays an arm over my shoulders. “I’m proud of you for such wonderful marks. This is your final review, right?”

I nod while taking a bite out of my sandwich. “Yup, it’s only a couple more weeks, my break not counting, before I am finished here and need to go home.”

With me acknowledging that I have to go home, a topic we all have been ignoring for the longest of time, the mood drops. 

“When are you... leaving”, asks Sicheng softly. 

“Eighteenth of January is my last day, but I can stretch my departure until the week of the 25th.” I let out a sigh. The idea of my leaving everyone to go back to school... sounds awful. But it’s not like I have a choice. It’s my exam year so I have to go back. 

[jojoreadwhat]

nothing else will do, all I want is you this christmas. | j.m. x fem!reader

a/n; hi. so you probably seen the post where I explained I deleted my last piece for Joe. I was not happy with it and I had another idea just floating in my head. this I think is my fav yet, so I hope you enjoy! I also re-tagged everyone from the last post, hope that’s cool! you’re the best!

prompt; joe can’t make it home for Christmas.

words; 1.7k

mentions; lucy boynton, ben hardy, gwilym lee & rami malek. (this is set around borhap’s production)

this tale includes lots of fluff which may lead to a lot laughs and a bunch of sweet kisses.

inspiration;

You were heartbroken by the news of Joe not being able to come home for Christmas. This was going to be your first, elaborate holiday spent apart across the pond.

“I’m sorry, y/n.” Joe repeated for the fourth time in the last 30 minutes through the blue screen of your laptop during a somber video chat.

Joe has been working on a major project, Bohemian Rhapsody, in London while you were back home in New York. This was Joe’s biggest part yet and it was supposed to stop, momentarily, for a lengthy week of rest for the cast. Unfortunately they have a deadline to catch up to and can’t halt the production.

Smiling soft and shaking your head. “It’s not your fault. We’ll celebrate it once you get back!” Trying to change the mood of things, Joe smirked briefly before his eyes trailed off the screen.

You felt so bad, in the way that technology advanced in today’s world, you were wishing you could reach through the screen and hug him, hug all of his sadness away and kiss the straightness of his lips till it giggled against your lips, curling up. Telling him it was going to be okay. Nothing made you more upset then seeing your boyfriend, blaming himself for something that was out of his hands.

“Joey?” Watching his eyes look up at the sound of your voice. Breaking the silence, “Hm.” meeting the lens like he was looking into yours with all of his attention. “Please don’t beat yourself up for it, it’s okay.”

It wasn’t, not for him anyways.

Joe and you have been together for a little over a year. You met through mutual friends at a party and hit it off instantly. He wasn’t expecting you to come in his life. Joe had his fair share of relationships and flings to keep him steady, he was ready to settle the bat down after a shit game on the field of love. But he met you right before he benched himself. You’ve become his best friend, his confidant, his lover and all good things between or beyond since. He was lucky to have stumbled upon your path, grateful even. It was time like these that made him question if he deserved you.

In the many years of his acting career, this current film was the most challenging he’s ever experienced. The longest he’s ever been away from home too. It was worse taking up jobs like this knowing he had someone to come home. He doesn’t know how you’ve stayed this long. He swore the first time that he spent away from you, would be the last he’d ever see you. He would’ve understood you leaving too. You stayed though, he never understood that by a long shot but you did and he wanted nothing more than to be back home with you.

Falling into another silence, you spoke up again. “What’s going on in that mind of yours?”

“How you do it.” He remarked, gingerly. His chin resting on hands, peering back at you. You raised your brow in confusion, wondering where this was going. “Do what?” Your naivety getting the best of you.

He smirked at your dumbfounded expression, you really had no idea what you meant to him.

“Stay.” He said, feeling your lips turn up into a smirk you couldn’t put a stop to even if you wanted to.

Sometimes you really thought you weren’t good enough in the ways that Joe was good to you. You couldn’t begin on how much he meant to you. How important and how amazing he was to you. You had your share of boyfriends using your heart as a welcome mat. When Joe came into your life it was like nobody could ever show you greater if anything wrong were to happen to your relationship. He was your beacon of light, the most kind, most affection, fun and generous soul you ever had the honor of having in your life. To call yours, for hopefully forever if he’d have you. You couldn’t walk away from him.

You smiled, brightly at the fluffy red hair with a funny, but adorable perm right now and his hazel eyes gazing back at you. “Because,” you began. “I love you.” watching his cheeks grow a deep shade of pink as he wasn’t used to hearing that.

Soon after, Joe and you bid your goodbyes before closing down your laptop. You sighed to yourself, dimly. Your eyes following the glistening, warm Christmas lights scattered against walls in the living room up until you focused on tree. Covered in odd ornaments, admiring it. You wished you could bring Christmas to him.

That’s when it hit you, what if you could? Joe couldn’t fly out but nothing was stopping you from flying out to him! You were overjoyed by the idea, checking your calendar and immediately texting the best person you know would be down to help.

Lucy Goosy: Are you up??? I just had the best idea!!

+

Lucy was over the moon by your idea of coming to London to bring Christmas cheer to Joe. She was also so excited to have another female around on set for the next week to be honest.

You two had met earlier on in the year before Bohemian Rhapsody began to be filmed. It was a little get together between the cast and crew, you two hit it off well and absolutely adored each other. She would help you out sometimes on keeping a good eye on Joe and his well being. She was always rooted for Joe and you, she knew first hand how much you meant to him.

When you landed on english soil on Christmas Eve. Lucy had her driver pick you up at the airport. You sat in the back of the black SUV, your nerves shot and all over the place, anxious and excited all in one over what today was going to be like. You hadn’t seen him, physically, in months and you couldn’t wait much longer, it was driving you mad not seeing that goofy smile and those hazel eyes for so long.

You texted Lucy when you had arrived outside of the place where her and the boys were filming.

She had everything figured out, even jobs for the boys. Lucy was going to do everything in her willpower to make sure this goes perfect as planned.

Still waiting for the go to exit the SUV, Lucy opened the door.

“Y/N!” Lucy shouted, excited as you shared the same enthusiasm, leaping into her arms. “It’s so great to see you!”

Gwilym was standing behind her, I shot him a smile before I pulled away and gave him a hug too.

Lucy placed my hands into hers, “Okay, so Rami and Ben have Joe out and about for lunch.” Smiling big, “We have an hour!”

We came up with the idea of decorating Joe’s trailer. “Okay! Let’s get rolling!”

+

Gwil, Lucy and you all hurried with bags full of twinkle lights and frilly decor to Joe’s trailer. Gwilym being the tall chap that he is, helped with hanging garlands and lights from the walls and draping from the ceiling. Lucy and you fluffed out a tree she had found from somewhere, cluttering it with lights and ornaments.

You were hooking a few ornaments, cute little Yankees ones too. “Lu, these are so cute!” Holding up one to her, she flashed a smile. “I heard wedding bells when I seen them!” Winking at you, “I believe I saw him looking at rings on his phone!” And your cheeks grew rosy as you placed the ornament onto the tree.

Time had passed and you had finished up with ten minutes to spare.

Gwilym was adding extra bows to empty areas and Lucy was adding an extra “dazzle” she quoted, with some candles.

We all stood in the main room at the glistening lights “It’s so cute!!” You cried, wrapping your arms around their middles and pulling them to your sides, gleefully. “Seriously couldn’t have done it without you guys,” leaning your head onto Lucy’s shoulder. “I owe you all lunch before I go!”

Gwilym chuckled, “No need! Just get our boy to cheer up, will ya?” You smiled, toothlessly. Nodding, “Absolutely.”

Lucy’s phone dinged, “Alright, they’re on their way back!” They scurried around quickly, grabbing trash and what nots before hugging you, “He’ll be here right after he gets in to change.” Gwilym announced, “hang tight!”

+

You sat on Joe’s sofa with a smile plastered to your face, in awe about the way the place came out. You were overwhelmed wanting to see his face.

Shortly you heard muffled sounds outside, you immediately went into action. Turning out the light switch and standing in place.

Your heart grew faster at how close you heard Joe’s sweet voice getting to the trailer.

“Hold on, I’ve gotta change back into my costume.” He yelled outside the door, hearing the door knob move.

You stayed carefully still, afraid he’d make out your shadow. “I thought I left the lamp on?” Muttering to him once he entered the room, hearing his feet shuffle across the floor as he reached for the light switch.

“Oh my god!” Joe nearly screeched at the sight and then when he seen you, he gasped “Y/N!” Beaming at the sight of his excitement taking over him.

He almost knocked you over with how fast he hurried to you, engulfing you into the warmest hug that you felt in ages. “Oh my god, you’re here!” Feeling his words in your hair, his hands roaming you like he was making sure you were really here.

“When did you get in?” His mouth was running for miles, How did you do all of this?!” He finished, then. Pulling away to go look around him at all the decorations, overwhelmed by everything.

You stood by, adoring him as he admired everything. “I had a little help, thanks to Lucy and the boys.”

He gasped, “they knew you were coming this whole time?!” Giggling as he watching him talk with his hands, one landing to his chest. “Come here,” waving his hand over towards you.

Wrapping your arms around his waist, he brought his hands to your cheeks. Tilting your head up towards his. “What did I do to deserve you?”

You didn’t know how to answer his question, but you knew he needed to be happy in the same way he made you feel.

Moving your hands to his dark red fluffy locks, simply smiling as you brought his lips to yours before pulling away to look at his eyes, the hazel ones you called home and loved with your all.

“Merry Christmas, Joe.”

Taglist - @myfatbottomedgirls @fairestkillerqueenofall @stephydearestxo @merryjolie @deacyblues @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark @bethanyann64 @fallingoutofthe1975 @plentyoffandoms @ask-mr-baldis-class @miss-artemis-wild @candiesandcherries @rocknrollqueenie @stormyparker @pastelhybristophiliac @briarrose26 @justapurrcat @theyreallidiots @standing-onthe-edge @escabell @heykarsyn @xinning19760326 @sheerhotspace @ca0s-artistic0 @augustturtle @strangemaximoff @richardhammondappreciationblog @coincidence-ithinknots-blog @kaleighmc

[aliciameade]

A Thousand Cuts

Title: A Thousand Cuts Author: aliciameade Rating: M for alcoholism and angst Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Beca doesn't realize she needs to get her shit together until it's too late, or, my take on a prompt I was sent to write something based on Taylor Swift’s “Death by a Thousand Cuts.”

Also on AO3

My heart, my hips, my body, my love / Trying to find a part of me that you didn't touch

Gave up on me like I was a bad drug / Now I'm searching for signs in a haunted club

Our songs, our films, united, we stand / Our country, guess it was a lawless land 

Quiet my fears with the touch of your hand / Paper cut stings from my paper-thin plans 

My time, my wine, my spirit, my trust / Trying to find a part of me you didn't take up 

Gave you so much, but it wasn't enough / But I'll be alright, it's just a thousand cuts

“You don’t mean that.” Beca’s voice cracks over the words; she’s moments from crying and she knows it.

Chloe’s already crying. “The hell I don’t.” Her voice is steady despite the tears. Her jaw is set, the muscles in her left cheek tensing with how hard she’s clenching it.

“Where am I supposed to go?” That’s when the first tear finally hits Beca’s cheek. They don’t stop after that and she doesn’t bother trying to wipe them away. “I don’t know anyone else here!”

“That’s not my problem.” Chloe walks away so abruptly, steps so heavy it makes Beca jump. She’s digging through the trunk that sits at the foot of their bed and pulls out Beca’s duffel bag to toss it onto the bed. “Pack. And get the rest of your shit out before the end of the month whenever I’m not here or I’m throwing it all away.”

Beca’s sure this must be what it feels like for the earth to swallow one whole. Her world’s been ripped out from beneath her feet.

The thing is, it’s her fault. She can’t argue that it’s not. She could have tried harder, not allowed herself to grow complacent. Chloe was someone who loves with her entire being, every inch of her soul. And Beca adores her. Loves her. But she has struggled to keep up with just how much Chloe needs from her in return for all the love she gives Beca. Truth be told, it’s scared the shit out of Beca since the day they exchanged their first ‘I love yous.’ She had even prefaced her confession by saying she will probably mess it all up.

Fucking self-fulfilling prophecies.

“I’m going for a walk,” Chloe says as she pushes past Beca more physically than necessary. “Don’t be here when I get back.”

When the door slams behind her, Beca fights the urge to crumple onto their bed and weep. They’d just made love on it this morning and she thinks if she touches it, it may burn her flesh.

Instead, she grabs the bag Chloe threw onto it and starts stuffing clothes and toiletries into it. Her head pounds and her chest aches with the need to sob but she won’t give this tiny apartment, their first home together as a couple. She fills the bag until she can’t zip it and throws her laptop into its case to swing them both over her shoulder.

On her way out the door, she rips a photo of the two of them in front of their Christmas tree last year off the fridge—not to destroy it, but to stuff it into her bag.

She wonders if Chloe will even notice it’s gone.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca takes the train into Manhattan. Brooklyn feels too small, too familiar. She wants the city to swallow her since the earth only pretended to. She doesn’t have a single New York-based contact in her phone except for the ramen house Chloe and she love and the main number for her office. She doesn’t particularly like her job and has made no effort to get to know anyone there. 

In the future, she’ll realize this could be a theme in her life.

She ends up at a hotel by Union Square. She can’t afford it. It’s nearly $200 for the night and it goes on an already precariously charged-up credit card. She’ll move to a hostel tomorrow; tonight, she needs privacy and space and the freedom to have the breakdown she’s been staving off for the two hours it’s been since Chloe told her it was over and threw her out of their home.

Once she gets to her room, she drops her bags on the floor and immediately throws up.

It’s the longest night of Beca’s life.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She doesn’t get the rest of her belongings back. She’s living in a hostel in a room she shares with five other people, at least one of which is new every night. She has to wait her turn to use the bathroom and to shower and most of the time, there’s no hot water.

The good thing, she supposes as she tries day after day to find a single good thing in her life, is that at $35 per day, she can actually afford her room and board and even feed herself twice a day and keep her phone bill paid.

Thank God for ubiquitous free WiFi.

But that one good thing, just keeping herself in room and board, doesn’t do anything to outweigh all the bad.

She hasn’t spoken to or heard from Chloe in two months. There was no final warning about coming to get her belongings or they’d be trashed. Chloe hasn’t checked in with her a single time.

Not that Beca’s reached out to Chloe either.

She’d thought escaping Brooklyn would help protect herself. Far from away all their usual haunts, she would be safer from the constant reminders of all the moments she and Chloe shared in the year-and-a-half they spent living together there.

Instead, she’s faced with bigger reminders in Manhattan. So many date nights spent there at restaurants and concert venues and theatres and sunset strolls through parks.

“Oh, my gosh, baby, this is so romantic, we have to take a selfie,” Chloe said as she grabbed Beca’s hands to spin them in a circle that almost had Beca tripping over her own feet. “Wait, no! Excuse me, sir?” Chloe asked a passerby. “Would you take our picture, please?”

“Sure,” he said as Chloe handed him her phone. “Tell me when.”

“Just take a bunch,” Chloe answered before Beca had even had a chance to weakly and pointlessly protest the impromptu photoshoot.

Then they were kissing on Gapstow Bridge with Central Park and the New York skyline behind them and Beca forgot why she would ever want to protest such a thing.

She can’t even walk through Times Square without her eyes pricking with tears at the memory of Chloe dragging Beca up the red stairs in the middle of a snowstorm to take a selfie at the top while they kissed wearing beanies and scarves and gloves.

The photo came out looking like they were in a snow globe and felt as magical as it looked. It’s saved in her favorites on her phone, but she refuses to let herself look through that album.

Even when she’s alone at night in a strange place that is her home but feels nothing like it, Chloe is everywhere. She can feel her phantom arms around her waist to pull Beca back against her to settle into sleep. In the shower, her hands travel over her body and she remembers all the times and all the ways Chloe has touched her here, and here, and here.

Alcohol doesn’t help, though Beca gives it her best shot.

It leads to her waking up in the beds of people whose names she only sometimes remembers.

A man she goes home with makes her leave when she won’t stop crying when he tries to touch her.

A woman she goes home with spends the night holding her. They even have sex, finally, in the early hours of the morning. But all Beca can think about is how it’s not right. How she isn’t Chloe and she doesn’t know how to touch Beca as Chloe does. It does nothing to help Beca forget or move on. In fact, it only makes her miss Chloe more.

She stops trying to escape into other people and goes back to drinking alone. It’s cheaper that way, too, which is a nice bonus. One bottle of whiskey runs her $40 which gives her far more drinks for her dollar compared to going to bars.

Eventually, she finds someone in need of a roommate through a coworker and she has a room to herself in Washington Heights. Her roommate is nice, a few years older than Beca, and works for the city’s child services department. She’s a good listener on the rare occasions Beca confides in her when her emotions become too much to take alone.

It turns into a relationship of convenience. They both acknowledge that’s what it is and that they’re setting themselves up for disaster if (when) it ends because someone (Beca) is going to have to move out when things become too messy.

But until that happens, it’s nice to feel at least somewhat normal again. She doesn’t feel like she’s ready to fall apart if someone looks at her the wrong way on the street.

She still thinks about Chloe at least once every minute when she’s conscious.

And usually, even when she’s not.

She knows she’s fixating. It’s too hard to not spend as much energy as she can berating herself for messing up and losing Chloe. It’s delicious torture to hate herself so much and replay the details of every moment of their relationship and pick out every time she fucked up and think about how she could have done it differently, how she would do it differently if she had the chance.

What’s most irritating of all is that there is no one singular cataclysmic event she can blame. It was her series of micro-aggressions, so seemingly small (to Beca), that piled up until replying to Chloe’s multi-scroll-long text message telling Beca that she needed more from her with “k” got her thrown out on the street.

And she knew—knows—she deserved it.

She wishes she could go back in time and slap herself and tell her to get her shit together before she loses the best thing to ever happen to her.

But she can’t. She keeps drinking and it’s never enough to forget Chloe.

Eventually, her behavior lands her out on her ass again, but this time, she expects it. What girl wants her not-girlfriend crying about her ex every time they have sex? At least there’s a discussion first and she’s allowed a couple of weeks to find a new place to live.

A year has passed since she fucked up her relationship with Chloe but, somehow, she’s managed to get her professional life into something resembling moderate success. She’s surprised when she downloads bank statements at the balance in her account to have when she goes apartment hunting. She’s done nothing but pay rent to her now-ex-roommate and buy what few things she’s needed to get by (mostly alcohol). She thinks she remembers an email from HR about a bonus or royalty payout around Christmas…?

It affords her the ability to get her own apartment, a one-bedroom in Harlem.

It also affords her the freedom to indulge in all her vices without someone passing judgment. She can drink herself to blackout. She can have anonymous sex. She can cry until she’s sick or lay on the floor and stare at the ceiling all night in a drug-and-alcohol-induced stupor. None of it really matters, anyway.

She fits right in with the people she’s finding herself forced to be around more often. She gets wasted with colleagues and A-listers under the guise of networking. She impresses men with her ability to out-drink them despite her stature. And if one of them offers cocaine? She can be the last one standing in the early hours of the morning.

She prides herself on her endurance, though not more than she prides herself on the fact that no matter how hammered she gets, not once has she drunk-dialed Chloe to beg forgiveness.

She hasn’t dialed her at all, for that matter.

She’s never apologized.

She wants to point out that showing up at her former apartment building when it’s dark and the streets are empty repeatedly pressing the buzzer for what used to be her apartment is not drunk-dialing nor drunk-texting.

“Hello?” Chloe’s voice crackles through the shitty speaker and Beca slumps against the wall next to the metal intercom at the sound of it. “Is anyone there? I swear if you kids are pulling this shit again, I’m calling the cops.”

Beca laughs to herself, memories of a group of teenagers that roams the neighborhood raising havoc of the relatively painless variety. Things like Ding Dong Ditch and hiding delivered packages from their recipients. It always infuriated Chloe and made Beca laugh and tell her to calm down, they’re just kids and they could be getting into much worse kinds of trouble.

She considers continuing to ring the buzzer just to keep Chloe on the line; it’s been so long since she’s heard her voice. Maybe she could just sleep on the building’s stoop?

She’s still thinking about it when she hears the familiar squeak of the door opening.

“Beca?”

She wonders if maybe she finally passed out to slip into dreamland because Chloe’s standing in front of her in plaid sleep shorts and Beca’s favorite vintage David Bowie tee.

“Hey, babe,” she slurs.

“What are you doing here?” Chloe takes half a step out of the door and starts to reach for her but stops short. “Are you drunk?”

“What if I am?” she says as she pushes herself away from the wall to stand upright again, though everything feels like it’s tilting. She points. “That’s my shirt.”

Chloe crosses her arms over her chest as if that will hide it. “I asked what you’re doing here.”

Beca has to think hard. She doesn’t remember how she got to Brooklyn. She doesn’t know what time it is. “I’m tired,” she answers. “I came home.”

“You don’t live here anymore.”

“I didn’t say I live here. I said I came home.” She tries to walk forward but trips and finds herself caught by Chloe before she hurts herself. “Cat-like reflexes,” she says with a chuckle before catching the scent of the laundry detergent and lotion Chloe always uses and the tears come out of nowhere.

She’s vaguely aware that Chloe’s helping her walk and it’s up the stairs and into the apartment they once shared, not out to the curb.

The last thought that passes through her mind as Chloe helps her into what was always Beca’s side of the bed is that even through her blurry vision she can see a picture on the refrigerator. A copy of the same photo she’d taken with her the day Chloe had thrown her out, placed in the exact place the original had been for so long.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

She wakes to the smell of freshly brewed coffee. Her head throbs but not too painfully; she rarely gets hungover these days. She knows where she is. She knows the feel of the bed, the softness of the sheets, the scent of breakfast and the sound of the quiet tings and thuds of cabinets opening and closing, of plates, mugs, spoons, and knives.

She doesn’t want to open her eyes. Maybe if she pretends to be asleep she could stay there all day without having to be embarrassed by her actions. She can just hold onto this unexpected return to a past life for a few more minutes before it’s ripped away from her again.

She starts when the sound of a mug being placed on the nightstand near her head comes unexpectedly.

“Morning,” Chloe’s quiet, husky morning voice whispers as she sits on the edge of the bed next to Beca.

Beca grimaces and pulls the covers up over her head. “No.”

“I have to go to work.” Beca didn’t even think about the fact that it was a weekday. Her own schedule doesn’t conform to the typical Monday-through-Friday model. “But I’m going to call out sick for the afternoon and come back at lunch.”

Beca slips the covers down until they’re under her chin. She knows she looks like shit but Chloe looks more beautiful than she remembers her.

“You can stay here until then. Help yourself to breakfast. We’ll talk when I get home, okay?”

Beca just nods, afraid that anything more than that will wake her from whatever dream she’s having. She feels Chloe’s hand on her leg, a brief touch before she’s leaving too soon.

Beca watches her gather her things and leave the apartment, locking it with her keys.

She knows she should go back to sleep. Sleep off the last bits of the drunkenness she can still feel swimming in her. But she’s been thrown back into her old life, her old home, and like so many mornings, Chloe’s just gone to work after making coffee for Beca.

Slowly, she sits up to take in her surroundings. The small studio looks much like she’s remembered it. There’s a lot more of Chloe in it now, though. More photos of her and friends Beca’s never met. The band posters Beca had insisted on putting up have been replaced with generic canvas prints from Target that feature the Eiffel Tower and a recreation of a poster for la tournée du Chat Noir avec Rodolphe Salis. It makes her smile; Chloe’s always had an obsession with Paris and it had only gotten worse after they went to Denmark—but not France—in college.

Driven by her roiling stomach she forces herself out of bed. When she stands, she has to do a double-take looking down at herself. She’s not wearing the clothes she’d left her apartment in yesterday. She’s not even wearing pants. Her legs are bare and she plucks at the shirt she’s wearing to see it’s one of her old concert tees.

A memory flashes of last night, of Chloe in the doorway wearing Beca’s shirt.

It makes her feel lightheaded and she reaches for the coffee Chloe’s left bedside before crossing the room to the kitchen. Everything’s still in the same place and it’s mindless yet spine-tingling to go through the motions of finding something to eat in that room just as she’s done countless times in the past.

She plops down at the small table that she once imagined proposing to Chloe over on a Sunday morning over a cozy winter brunch they prepared together and is about to dig into her bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch that Chloe miraculously has on-hand despite claiming to hate it when she freezes, spoon halfway to her mouth.

On the clothing rack in the middle of the room, the one they had to fight over for valuable space, hang all of Beca’s clothes she’d left behind when she was forced to flee.

Her chair screeches as she pushes it back to rush over and quickly flip through the blouses, pants, and dresses she hasn’t seen in more than a year. She tugs open the third and then fourth drawers of the dresser they shared to find them both still stuffed full of underwear, bras, socks, tank tops, shorts, and Beca’s beanies and gloves she’d really missed that winter. She drops to her knees and reaches under the bed to find the sharp plastic edge of a storage bin and pulls it out. All her shoes, still in their place.

If not for the changes in decor, she would believe she never left. Nothing has changed since her last morning with Chloe.

It’s overwhelming. Chloe had threatened to throw everything away if Beca never picked it up. Beca never did, but Chloe didn’t follow through.

Her head swims and her eyes prick with tears. She thinks she might be sick from the rush of emotions and adrenaline; Chloe hadn’t tossed their life in the trash even though she’d tossed Beca to the curb.

She isn’t sick, though. Instead, she strips off her shirt and crawls into the bathtub and turns on the shower to sit under the spray and cry.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Beca’s heart races when she hears Chloe’s keys in the hallway seconds before they rattle in the lock. She watches the door open slowly, Chloe peeking in carefully until they find Beca sitting at the table.

“You’re awake,” she says as she enters with less care now that Beca’s not asleep. “Did you find something to eat? I brought lunch just in case.”

Beca’s eyes drop to the bag in Chloe’s hand; there are familiar round plastic take-out containers stacked in it and Beca doesn’t have to ask to know it’s from the ramen place they frequented. “I did, yeah.”

Chloe sets the bag on the table and Beca watches her take off and hang up her coat. When she turns back around, she pauses. “Oh.”

Beca wonders what she’s looking at until she realizes it’s Beca’s clothes. “You didn’t throw my stuff away.”

Chloe takes a break as though she’s about to speak but instead she sighs and says nothing in reply as she sits down in her chair to Beca’s left and starts unpacking the lunch she’s brought.

Beca catches her hand when it’s busy setting up soup and sides and Chloe’s entire body seems to flinch, but she doesn’t pull her hand away. “You didn’t throw me away, did you.”

Tears are welling in Chloe’s eyes when they meet Beca’s but she still doesn’t speak.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Beca rushes when she realizes she’s the one who has to do the talking. “But I do. Will you hear me out? Give me ten minutes. Five.”

“Okay,” Chloe says quietly as she pulls her hand back to resume passing out utensils.

Beca waits until she’s finished, until Chloe’s no longer distracting herself with busywork and her eyes land on Beca nervously so she can finally say, “I’m sorry, Chloe.”

The End

[shaineybainey]

“Noble Intentions”

Lab Rats [T]

The Lab Rats and Mighty Med teams face off with the greatest threat to humanity yet: The Incapacitator, a supervillain bent on becoming the most powerful in the planet. …Which makes things super awkward for Leo, considering that their newest nemesis is his father. AU. Lab Rats vs Mighty Med redux.

** DISCLAIMER: SEE CHAPTER ONE FOR DISCLAIMER **

tagging: @weareoutofmaplesyrupdave @allhailkingbob @neshatriumphs @vcnting @verified-dumbass @serpent-princess @clockradio93 @lover-of-dc-comics @dysfunction-ality @eclecticlawyergardengoth 

VIII: The Night of Infinite Hours, Side B

Tecton rubs his eyes, stinging now from staring at the twenty-foot screen of the League’s supercomputer. He doesn’t know why he’s doing this to himself. They’ve refreshed the radar four times already. If there was a change in result, it would have told him.

“You look terrible, Alex. You really should get some sleep.”

He looks up, only to find a mug of hot coffee being held in front of his face. “Thanks.”

“That’s not going to hold you up for long, though.”

I know, Tecton thinks wearily. It’s turning out to be one of his longest patrol as of yet.

Sharp takes her seat beside him, her own cup of coffee nestled safely in her hand. “Might not be a bad idea to get some shut eye. You never know when Incapacitator will slip and show up.”

“That’s why I can’t go to sleep. I have to wait.”

His colleague looks at him a while, analyzing. Then, she leans back on her chair and smirks up to the screen. “I’ll give it about seven minutes of good fight time.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

“Magda, please. Don’t do this. I’m already wiped as it is.”

The superhero smiles.

Tecton sighs. Nice. An admittance from him.

He can never win an argument with her.

“Geraldine has been down for almost three hours now. Gray Granite’s recharging, too,” Sharp comments as Tecton takes a cautious sip of his drink. “I can stay up for you, if you need. You know I’m used to pulling all-nighters now.”

Tecton smiles. “You’re not a prospect anymore. You don’t need to do scut work.”

“I’ve only been in the League for three months. I’ve still got a lot to prove.”

Tecton chuckles. “Congratulations, by the way.”

She only glances at him, a ghost of a smile on her face.

Silence settles between the two of them for the longest while. Tecton can’t decide whether it’s comfortable, strained, or a weird cross of both.

As he thinks of ways to fill the void, Sharp speaks again. “What do you think of the new prospects?”

The new prospects? It takes him a while. “You mean the kids?”

“Yeah. The twins. Shockwave...”

Tecton leans back on his seat, pensive. “They’re promising.”

Sharp scoffs. “Solar Flare isn’t here. You can trash talk them all you want – especially the blondes.”

Tecton laughs. “You do know you’re talking to one.”

“Please. This isn’t about you. I just mean those particular set of blondes.”

“You seem to feel very strongly about Quasar and Pulsar.”

“I feel very something about those girls, especially one of them.” Sharp looks at him. “I just want to know if I’m alone in this or if you feel the same thing, too.”

His brows furrow. “Like…?”

She holds his frown for a long moment, not once faltering in her gaze. When she sees he won’t be the first to surrender, she resumes her watch of the screen. “It’s a mistake to hire one of them,” she comments straight-faced.

He smirks. “Scarlet thought it was a mistake to hire you.”

“We both know why.”

At that, the smirk on his face shrinks. With so many problems in the world that they have to solve, he often forgets that problems also exist within their ranks.

He really shouldn’t be surprised. After all, they’re still human too – just like the people they save. “Magda - “

“I’m getting a bad feeling from them,” Sharp cuts him off. “One of them is two-faced. At the moment, I just can’t pinpoint who.”

“Is this because of what you found on the log from the training center?”

Sharp says nothing, but it’s obvious that the answer is yes.

Tecton takes a deep breath. It’s an issue that Gamma Girl and Spotlight had also asked him to look into. Since Sharp brought to their attention the fishy activities of the twin teenage girls, she and Solar Flare had been at odds with each other.

Scarlet will defend her mentees to the death, and Magda won’t back down on her stand regarding the trainees.

Remembrance of that causes his shoulders to feel heavier.

“Forget it,” Sharp says, her features distant and pragmatic now. “Have you told the boy’s parents what needs to happen after he gets home?”

His brain sputters once again. When it clears, though, he finds that he’s once again staring at another problem. “No,” he says. “I haven’t.”

“Can I do it?”

He sighs for what feels like the hundredth time that night. “No, I’ll—”

“Alex. You know you don’t have to do everything that needs to be done under the sun,” Sharp reproves. “That’s why you have us. We’re a team. You have to divide the load. That’s why you’re looking a lot older lately. You take so much of what you shouldn’t.”

He stares at her. “I look old.”

“Yes.”

“Lately.”

“Sí.” She grins at the screen. “Muy viejo.”

He chuckles humorlessly. There are so many things he want to say: he takes on so much because he has to; he takes on so much because he needs to. He takes on so much because the world needs him, and he takes on so much because that’s what he needs to do with his gifts.

But then, Sharp looks at him with a soft, warm smile and says, “You’re not alone, you know” – and all of those thoughts cease.

“I know,” he acquiesces.

Sharp nods. She takes another sip of her coffee.

“The program seems to be very important to you.”

“We’re giving children the care they need, and we’re giving them a second chance. What’s not to like about it?”

He smiles. “You know, half the League is still not comfortable about you eyeing Katrina Lee as your sidekick.”

“Trainee,” she corrects. “Are you not comfortable about it?”

Tecton thinks about it. He shakes his head. “No, I am,” he says. “The things her father did are not the same things she’s doing.”

“Mm, I believe that, too. Plus, Dr. Farrow says she’s been doing well and comes to all their appointments.” Sharp shoots a smirk his way. “Kat is a smart girl, very promising. It won’t be fair if she’s just forever known as Megahertz’ daughter.”

Tecton agrees. He thinks about the program, thinks about the two girls currently being helped. He also thinks about The Incapacitator, his negative opinion of superheroes, and then his son. “I want to tell them,” he says.

“Tell...who?”

“The Davenports,” he says. “I know we can’t change the minds of all supervillains, but maybe we can try again with another one. Incapacitator became who he is because no one came to help his family when they needed help. But maybe, if we take care of his son, maybe that would change his opinion of us.”

“I don’t know. That may be a bit of a long shot,” Sharp says. Still, she smiles at him. “It’s a pretty good idea, though.”

“Worth the shot, right?”

“Always.”

Tecton smiles down at his coffee, thrilled at the ray of light the action might shed on the world.

“Still, that’s cheating. You’re still not dividing responsibilities.”

He grins. “Alright, how about this? How about I go to sleep, so you’ll stop nagging me, and then I tell the parents about the program?”

“Sounds great. Your face is making me feel sleepy anyway.”

Tecton scoffs, getting on his feet. “I’m still the leader of the league, you know.”

She leans her head back to look at him. “Yeah. Your eye bags totally scream authority.”

Tecton can’t help but laugh. The other members of the league rarely crack jokes, and he’d say the relationship between all of them is more business than a real friendship.

Secretly, he likes having someone who pushes against the norm. “Thanks, Sharp.”

“You’re welcome, Tecton.”

At that end of the conversation, Tecton leaves.

A soft trill from the supercomputer stops him in his tracks. “Uh oh,” Sharp says. “Hold up on that sleep, Blondie. Alley Cat just sent us a message.”

“What does it say?”

“Watchdog tip. Junction City, Kansas. Seems like there’s some villains on the way to this one house.” Finding him reading beside her, she frowns. “What’d you ask me to read it for? You’re right here!”

Tecton switches from the message to the general energy anomaly register radar. There, they see two dots coming in towards their target destination. “This isn’t good,” he says. “Civilian neighborhood. We can be looking at casualties.”

“I’ll wake up Geraldine and Gray Granite.”

“I’ll contact Blue Tornado.”

“Alex,” Sharp calls after him as he speeds out.

He stops, spins around. “What?”

She gives him an impatient look. “Two on the radar, but there may be more,” she says kindly. “You’re tired. You can’t get in a rumble in your condition.”

“I’m fine.”

“The people in that house,” she reasons, “they can get hurt if you’re not in tiptop shape.”

Tecton pauses. She’s right. As much as she joked, he knows her estimate of there being only seven minutes of good fight is accurate. He’s tired, and in a rumble exhaustion is a weapon that the opposing team can use.

Once again, she wins the argument. “I’ll go as backup.”

“Alex.”

“I promise,” he nods, his feet already taking him towards the action. “Message us if something comes up on Incapacitator!”

Inside the Core, Magda only slumps to her seat, dreading what the unheeded warning might bring.

[kpopisthereasonihavenolife]

Dandelion

BTS

Park Jimin/Reader [F]

Genre: College AU, Enemies->Friends->Lovers, Fluff

Warning(s?): Mentions of Drinking/Smoking, Jimin’s Tattoo

Words: 9.7k

Summary: Park Jimin was a hot topic name floating around campus on the daily.  Always seen with a girl at his hip with a different girl on his thigh just a few days later.  Rumor has it he’s never had a fling with one girl lasting longer than a week.  With your gossip-addicted best friend and his friendship with Jimin, Jimin comes to learn about you.  A week isn’t so hard sticking around one girl, the hardest part is when day 7 stars approaching. So, he decides he wants to make a wish instead. Wishing on a dandelion has to work. 

a/n: this is sloppy bc I did it all in one sitting and I apologize

“I heard Jimin broke up with his girlfriend!”  The first thing you were greeted with at lunchtime and it was your overly excited, sparkly-eyed best friend.  He was always the one to get any and all gossip he could just because he wanted to be part of the circle of gaudy gossip.  You could care less about half the bull that comes out of his mouth.

“And why would I care?  What, is it his longest lasting relationship or something.  Wow, 5 days with the same chick, whoop-dee-doo.”  You slid into a cafeteria, blue chair unloading the tray filled with two wrapped chicken sandwiches and a styrofoam bowl of strawberries.  

“Oh come on, you can’t deny that it’s odd.  There’s talk about him actually liking this one, maybe he’ll go back in for a double dip.”  

You gagged.  “Eugh, can’t you go and tatter off to your other friends?  I don’t wanna hear anything about Jimin’s sex life, Jackson.”

Jackson slumped over in the seat next to you as he sighed dramatically into the air. He would always act like you just kicked over a tower of legos he spent 4 hours building whenever you would blatantly refuse to care about his gossip. It was no surprise that Jackson knew all the haps of anything ever.  He was a people person, who knew everyone ever it seemed.

If you called some random number over in LA, you had no doubt if you mentioned Jackson, they would answer back ‘oh, yeah I know him!’.  He’s been everywhere and you were always curious as to why.  He wasn’t a homebody by any stretch.  

“I can’t talk to other people about his hips girl, all because they’ve all been with him before.  You- albeit- haven’t! So, I can talk to you about him with a clean slate honey.”

“That reasoning and your stupid use of pet names have no correlation of why I need to hear it and I’ve also revoked your drunk stay over privilege until next Monday.”

Jackson gapped at you.

“Your couch is my drunk home! Don’t evict me you, she-devil!” He whapped at your shoulder and swapped right back to the topic at hand.  “Besides, I’m his friend, why aren’t you?”

“Do you really have to ask?  He doesn’t know I exist for one and I’d like to keep it that way.  All he’s gonna do is try and wedge his half-dollar-coin-sized dick between my legs.”

“Sometimes, you really do need to get laid.”

“If you don't think I won’t knee him in the balls if he comes even within a 4-foot radius of me, you’re wrong.”

Sensing the conversation die, Jackson finally moved onto a different topic altogether.  Even if the topic shifted from Jimin, the conversation he yapped your off about how unsanitary the school campuses bathroom is, was still far from welcome.

Munching on your food, and nearly finished Jackson stopped his yammering when someone clapped his shoulder.  Looking over his shoulder, he busted out into laughter at the irony as you could see their figure in the corner of your eyes.  Only offering a small and short eyeroll.

Park Jimin stood behind Jackson, his hand on his hip with a pair of shades and a beanie on his blonde head. His leather jacket covered his yellow flannel that hid his white tee with his jeans that were ripped at the thigh.  His biker boots were worn and frankly needed some care to them.

You remain unbothered and silent as the two began to speak to another.

“I was told to pass along the message,” Jimin said as he held out a small scrap of folded paper.  Taking it with a pluck, Jackson flipped it open and scanned the words written along it.  

“Right on, right on. Whose place is this one at?”

“Jin’s setting us up.”  Jackson whistled with a smirk.

“Of course.  Mr. Connections, always pulling through.”

Jimin nodded, Seokjin always had connections.  Be it with a house to throw parties or what flower shop to go to when your little 3-year-old niece wants a bouquet of daisies for her birthday. He always had a go-to.  Perks of being a rich kid who knew any and everyone with the social skills to back you up.  You’ve even asked him once if he knew a place in town that sold old, used textbooks. He was cocky about it, but at least he gave you an answer and a promise to save some money.

“Friday at 8.  Don’t forget like last time and show up at 3 when everyone is already passed out or getting fucked in a room, yeah?” Jimin quipped with a smirk on his face.  Jackson only rolled his eyes as he swiveled around to you, shoving the paper in your face as you popped a strawberry in your mouth.

Reading the words in sloppy handwriting, it looked like a kindergartner wrote it.  It just showed a location, a time and date.  Probably all the for party that you assumed to two were fawning over.  You shifted your eyes to look over the paper into Jackson’s face.  A gleam in his eyes and a smile on his face.  Far too suspicious.

“Why am I looking at this?”

“You’ve gotta come with me!”  You rolled your eyes as slapped the top of his hand, making him retracted it and rub at the skin with a pout. “Rude,” he muttered.

“If you think I’d enjoy being in a loud, sweaty, drunken club with all your frat friends looking for a night less than 20$ and 5 shots, you really need to revoke your friendship with me. I’d rather stare directly into a high voltage flashlight for 2 hours and go blind, thanks.”

You popped another strawberry into your mouth as Jackson laid his head down on the table and looked at you.  Lips pouted and eyelashes fluttering like a damsel in distress.  

“Please?”

“Not happening.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Jackson!”

“Okay okay,” he reasoned before he sat up and snapped his fingers.  A stupid plan forming in his head, you could feel it. “How about it’ll be a favor for me?  I’ll owe you one!” You sighed as you rubbed your forehead.  He was such a headache.  “Please, I won’t ask anything more for the rest of the month plus I’ll even owe you a favor.  Any favor, you know I'm down for anything.”

“So long as it doesn’t end up with you sitting in a holding cell?” You quipped with a smile as you remember back in high school he was running around town, causing all sorts of trouble with beer on his brain instead of logic.

“That was a long time ago! Let it die!” He whined.

As the two of you bickered, the both of you had failed to register Jimin still stood at the table.  Jimin knew a lot of the student body, even if the campus and college were diverse and huge.  Though, he hadn’t seen you before.  Arguing with Jackson about not wanting to come to a world-class frat party was amusing enough.  The fact that you seemed to know Jackson already, only made it better.  You probably had so much dirt on him it was laughable.

You seemed stubborn, probably annoyingly so.  He moved to rest his rear on the table top, lounging with one leg propped up as he watched you two.  He wasn’t needed here, he wasn’t required to stay and listen in on a conversation that had literally nothing to do with him.

Yet, he was intrigued all the same.  Then, you noticed him.

You peeked around Jackson as you threw the last strawberry from your bowl into your mouth, the red from the fruit staining your lips in a way he wanted to forget, but somehow knew he wouldn’t.  

“Can we help you?” You asked in a spiteful manner.  He lifted his hands in defense.

“Oh no, carry on.  This is fun,” he replied as you rolled your eyes.  “Besides,” he started again, “it’s just a party.  There’s nothing wrong with that.”  

“Some of us have other things to do believe it or not.  Maybe I’m not into alcohol, or maybe I’m just not a party person.  Ever think of that genius?”

He hissed in a playful manner, dramatically clutching his chest.  

“That stings.  And to think I was inviting you.”

“No, Jackson was inviting me.”

“But, I invited him.  So through correlation, I am the mastermind.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed as Jackson bit his lip in amusement. He knew Jimin had no idea who you were, yet he was chatting you up like you’ve been talking for a week.  “I don’t really want to take an invite from some rando guy who hops from girl to girl like frogs from lily pads.  Please shut up.”  

Before anything else, you looked at the watch face on your wrist and pushed out your chair.  Loading the tray with your trash and empty strawberry-stained bowl, you slung your bag over your shoulder. Jackson stood up as well, taking the tray from you as you huffed.  

“I’ll take your trash,” he kindly said.  It was suspicious once again, but you’d allow it.  “You’re going to work on your camera right?  Didn’t you get a new one?” You nodded.

“I did.  I was going to go back to the dorms and fiddle with it.  I don’t have another lecture until 4, so I can afford some practice photos.” He nodded.

“Make sure to take a photo of a dandelion and show it to me first!”

“What if I wanted to show my roommate?”

“You know she won’t be there.  She’s always out late.”

“You’re right,” you added with a playful smirk.  She worked late and after that, she always had something to do. It was a good night when she came sauntering into the dorm at 2 AM.  

“Go on, shoo you, little photographer, you.” You shook your head with a chuckle and began to walk off.  Swerving around chairs and people, you plugged your headphones into your phone and placed your sound muffling cuffs over your head and toned out the world.  Leaving the cafeteria, the school and then to the campus grounds.  

Jackson as he said, dealt with your trash as Jimin hopped up from his seat on the table top and meandered his way back through the cafeteria to his mob of friends.  All talking about one thing or another.  

All Jimin could think about as he drummed his fingers on his arms was how to convince you to come to the party on Friday. He had something he wanted to know about and, quite frankly, he felt like you inadvertently challenged him.  So, of course, he had to prove a point now.  

Having someone banging on your door Friday evening at 6 PM was something you surely didn’t want to deal with. Already cozy with one of your old hoodies and a pair of shorts with your hair a damp mess from your shower earlier on, you were lounging on your couch flipping through TV channels utterly bored.

Jackson had spammed you with text after text trying to convince you to come to the party.  He tried every bribe in the book, but you just would not yield.  You only assumed that Jackson was the one pounding down your dorm door, but when it didn’t stop and your phone never chimed with a text to let him in, you grew curious.  

Growing tired of the constant bangs that didn’t seem to stop anytime soon, you rolled off the couch and stomped to the door, swinging it open without even peeking through the peephole who is inside.  Ready to be met with your best friend's face, yet not so.

“What the hell?” You whispered to yourself.  There, in front of you and your dorm room who just shoved his way past your shoulder to saunter inside was Park Jimin himself. “Um, excuse me?”

He, with his hands shoved into the pockets of his mint green windbreaker, turned to you with his tousled blonde hair and dark eyes.  “Yes?”

“Get the hell out?” You questioned as you motioned to the door.  He untucked his hands as he cupped his chin and puckered his mouth and crinkled his chin in a false thought motion.  He was already trying your patience.

“I think I’m good. Thanks for the offer though!” You groaned as you begrudgingly shut your door, glad for once that your roommate never comes back until way later than 6PM.  When you waltzed back into your living room, Jimin had made himself comfortable on your couch with your TV remote like he lived here.  You were offended, obviously so.

You stood in the doorway of the room as Jimin waved you over as you took skeptic steps towards him and sat on the far end of the couch.  Clear away from his grabby fingers that probably need a sanitize or two.

“I don’t bite you know,” he chuckled as he dug his phone from his pocket.  He opened his messages and you watched his thumbs drum away on the screen.  Messaging, hitting send, opening a new conversation and repeat.  How many friends did he have?  “We’ll leave in an hour.”  He said without batting an eye.

“Excuse me?”

“Jin’s party? We’re going.” Who did this man think he is?!

“Says who?!  I’m not going, I’m pretty sure I made that obvious before. You were eavesdropping so you know this mind you.”

“I wasn’t eavesdropping, I was just listening.  It’s not like I was hiding behind a wall and listening in while you and Jackson bitch back and forth.  Which is funny, by the by.” He dropped his phone into his lap as he hiked his arm up on the back of the couch, looking at you, your knees pulled to your chest with your feet on the couch cushion.  “You’re actually quite cute.”

You quickly jumped up and sat perched on the arm of your couch, pointing a finger at him as you opened your mouth and furrowed your brows.

“Ah-ha! I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

“You’re just a sleazy, shady, horny college frat boy who is just following me around because you don’t know me!” Jimin offered an annoyed eye roll, his eyes sticking up to his eyelids before he looked back down with a snarky grin. “I’ve heard your resume from Jackson, and I know better than to throw myself at you.”

“Oh, so you know about me?  Well, that’s unfair as I know nothing about you.”

“In fact, come any closer and I’ll punch you in your stupid face.”  Jimin just shook his head as he huffed out through his slightly parted lips.  He watched as you sat perched on the arm of your couch like some sort of bird of prey, practically hissing at him. You had obviously heard all the rumors from Jackson, most of which are probably true.  Most.  Not all of them are true though, however, he won't deny that he couldn't count the numbers of girls he's 'dated' on his fingers and toes combined.

"You know, I'm not all that bad.  I'm not gonna just get you drunk and pull some cheap trick on you like some jock would." He slid his phone into his windbreaker pocket.  "How about we compromise."

"Sounds sketchy," you reply without missing a beat.

"Now, now, hear me out.  I can tell you don't like me much," you interrupted him with a sarcastic 'oh really' before he continued talking over you, "but I'm not so much as a horn dog as I am something willing to give someone something they want.  I'm not into sex if it's not consensual, so don't worry about me making any moves on you."  He spoke like he was being truthful, but you still weren't a hundred percent certain you could take his words at face value.  He sighed, "look, if you go with me, we don't have to stay the whole time," he tacked on.

"We? Makes it sound like you're expected me to tail you all night."

"Not exactly, I will be hanging around you though.  Jackson said parties aren't your scene, and I absolutely know that if you had the option, you'd be a wallflower all night." You squinted at him as you held your pinkie towards him.  He looked at it with ticked brows then back to you.  "And this is?"

"A pinkie finger," you answered.

"No shit genius, why are you sticking it in my face?"

"Oh please, it's like you don't know what a pinky promise is."  You rolled your eyes.  "I'll go to the stupid party if, and only if, you stick to your word and not abandon me to flounder on my own because I'm actually a big wimp and I will cry and I will cause a scene otherwise."

Jimin busted out laughing as he linked his pinky in yours.  Extending your thumb, you pressed it against the pad of his own and 'locked' in the promise.  Now he absolutely wasn't allowed to go back on his word.  Or else you'd probably throw a knife set at him.

Jimin shooed you off as you walked to your room, swaying and moaning the entire way before you shut it behind you.  So much for a boring, cozy night in.  For once, maybe you'd see your roommate if you weren't out all night.  You sighed as you sadly stripped out of your hoodie and shorts replacing them with skinny jeans with holey knees and a white shirt.  Fixing your messy hair and tying it back with a stretched out hair tie, you slipped on your worn out flats and grabbed your phone from the nightstand.

It was nothing glamorous, and you expected other girls to probably be dressed more... openly to put it nicely.  Though, you were only going because you were peer pressured into it, not to get laid and definitely not to get hit on.  If anyone even came close to you with a stupid, drunk pick up line, you're most likely to panic and flee the scene like you committed murder.

You sighed as you looked into your mirror.

"Why am I a pushover to some jerk who hardly knows me?"  Then, you gasped as you stomped your foot, finally registering that Jackson had blabbed to JImin about you. "That snake!!  I'm taking away his drunk couch privileges indefinitely!" All while Jimin sat on the couch in the living room, laughing to himself as you screamed at nothing and shot Jackson a text that you were coming with him to the party.

To say Jackson's reply back was overbearing was an understatement.  He acts like an idiot towards you, but the 'Don't you dare try anything with her, I swear to god,' text he received told him that the relationship you two have is more than just back and forth banter.

When Jimin's ears perked up at the sound of your door down the hall unlatching, he picked himself up off the couch and watched as you came back into the living room changed and much more party ready.  He let out a loud whistle as you adjusted your shirt, tucking it in and letting the boy see just the smallest sliver of your stomach and if he was being honest, it was more attractive than he thought it would be.

You were teasing him and you weren't even aware of it.  That was the most painful thing about you so far.  He cupped his chin as he looked at you.  Peeking up as you fumbled with getting your shirt just right, you caught him inspecting.

"What?" You bit.

"Something just seems, off?  Something is missing from this look."  He hummed as he walked around you.  The shirt was fine, the jeans were aesthetically pleasing and the small choker you hooked around your neck was a touch of college that worked wonderfully with the outfit in question.  He came back to your front as he scrunched his eyes and then shot them open with a snap and a small ah-ha moment. "I know! You need a jacket!"

"Why?"

"Because it's a staple in fashion to have a jacket with a look so simple.  Your shirt and jeans combo with a flare of the choker is appealing, but a jacket always seals the deal!  Or, if it's too hot than settle for a cardigan."

"What are you, a fashion guru?"

"No, but I do take a high deal of pride in my fashion sense."  You rolled your eyes as you crossed your arms.  Why white?  It was almost too transparent, your stupid yellow star printed bra was just barely visible in the bright lights of the living room.  Surely it'd be fine at the party, it'll be dark in the house, save for the random rave lights that Jin is bound to have.  He goes all out when it's his party.

"And I assume you'll want this jacket to be black?" He nodded, it would be just wrong to have a white jacket over a white shirt.  It would clash too much.  "Too bad, I don't have one.  I have a grey one?" He shook his head.

"Nope.  Monochromatic is good, but not with this look.  Black is the only option.  Ah, you know what, I have something at my house I could lend you.  It'd so perfect with you!"  He smiled as he grabbed your wrist.  "Come on, I live 10 minutes off campus.  We've no time to waste!"  He whined as he dragged you through the dorm and eventually out the door.

Soon, within the next hour, you found yourself climbing off of his motorcycle- that nearly frightened you to death with him as the driver- in his leather jacket outside a house too big to be real and almost envy-inducing.

The house was two stories and looked like a widened stock photo with how wide it was.  All the window shades were open and lights of blues, reds, purples flickered in uneven patterns through them.  The music was just bass boosted enough you could feel it in your feet when Jimin marched you both up the patio and through the door.  It was like walking into a speaker the way your body met with all the heat, lights and loud music.

You couldn't hear yourself think as you weaved through people, behind their backs and gasping when you nearly ran into a couple more than ready to take their lip lock elsewhere.  You shrunk in on yourself as you stumbled around before Jimin took your wrist again.

"Come on," he leaned closer to you and spoke loud enough you could hear him.  Letting him drag you off somewhere, he quite rudely pushed people away and maneuvered through the crowds of drunk college kids. He was definitely used to this- the way he moved through the masses was a clear indication of that.

Soon he had pulled you into the kitchen where it was much less crowded than you figured it would be.  You would think since all the liquid was stored here, it would be a madhouse, but only a few bodies stood around sipping from the typical red cup with rosey, drunken cheeks.  The music had dulled back in the kitchen, so a conversation wasn't totally out of the question.  You placed your hand on your chest and sighed at the room to actually breathe.

Jimin, beside you, chuckled as he rubbed your back between your shoulder blades.

"you really aren't cut out for tight spaces, doll."  You glared at him.

"Oh, so you just now realize that you moron?" He only chuckled as he whipped out his phone and sent a text to someone.  Just one text, as opposed to an hours earlier when he was texting anyone and everyone nonstop in sequence.

No soon was Jackson waltzing into the kitchen.  JImin watched as you seemed to lighten up at the face of someone so familiar to you.  Jackson sauntered out with a smile, nearly jogging at he bumped into your side with his own.  Wearing a snapback and some jersey with a pair of old, acid washed jeans, he looked like a jock ripped straight out of some gross teen-movie.

His breath stunk of booze, but he was still partially sober.  He could hold his alcohol better than you thought he could, to be honest. You pushed away his cheek that was far too close to your face to get the radiant smell of beer away from your nose.

"you're gross and smell, get away from me you sweaty-"

"Do not insult me when I know for a fact you're so ready to shit bricks."

You gaped at him as you smacked the back of his head, making him whine and wince as he rubbed it.  Sure you were nervous being here, but you weren't that nervous.  You crossed your arms as you pouted, Jimin once again finding a sense of adorableness between you and Jackson's interactions.

"I hate you," you muttered as Jackson feigned hurt.  He dropped his act as he playfully slapped your ass, making you squeak before he turned to Jimin.

"How'd you get Straight-Lace-Y/n out of her room on a Friday my man?  I gotta know, for future reference of course."

"You would never believe how easy she is to persuade if you say the right things."  Jackson gasped.

"You didn't make some sketchy deal did you?!"  You squawked as Jackson quickly pulled you against his chest, nearly knocking you over in his haste as he practically hissed as Jimin.  "Don't be touching my little Y/n! She's way too young!"  You whined.

"I'm only a few years younger than you!"  Jimin didn't know how old you were exactly, but if you were younger than Jackson, you were around his age then?  Jimin just shook his head as he slipped his thumbs through the front belt loops of his pants, leaning back just enough for it to almost be attractive.  Almost.

"I won't disclose our agreement with someone who didn't witness it.  Clients secrecy."

"Stop!" You grumbled.  "That makes it seem so bad!"  Jimin laughed as the three of you soon took to sticking in your little group and chatting.  Jimin had finally got you to loosen up enough to at least have one cup of something to drink.  Beer wasn't typically your thing, but after not being impressed with the rest of the liquor lineup, it wasn't so bad in comparison.

Eventually, you seemed to even start enjoying yourself.  Playfully quipping at anything Jackson or Jimin had to say and even smiling or laughing at some dumbass joke that came out of one of their mouths. Jimin laid off the alcohol for the most part, as he was your ride home and he may be wild, but drunk driving is definitely not his main game.

Soon, Jackson abandoned ship and Jimin had begun to wander around and meet of people he knew, all while you remain attached at his side with his hand over yours.  True to his word, he never once left you on your own the whole night and when Jimin finally suggested you go back to your dorm it was well past midnight.  You didn't want to stay out this late, but you weren't particularly fussed about it either.

Weaving back around passed out drunks, far too attached couples and still dancing troopers, Jimin and you ended up back outside and across the lawn to his motorcycle where it had sat parked all night.

As he placed his helmet on his head and climbed on, you followed he flipped up his visor to look at you.

"It wasn't so bad, now was it?" His muffled voice asked.  You rolled your eyes, hating to admit that anything Park Jimin did for you was actually enjoyable unlike you previously thought.

"It wasn't awful, but don't expect this to happen a second time, Park." After dropping you off and making sure you got into your room safe and sound at ten after 1AM, he drove back home.  He lived in an apartment off campus, well off enough to afford it before he needed to get back into the part-time job department of life.

Stripping free of his party clothes and swapping them out for sweats and a thin, stretched out grey shirt, he flopped onto his bed.  Realizing two things. One, you still had his leather jacket and two, he hadn't stopped smiling since you wrapped your arms around his waist on the way back to your home.

You were rudely awoken the next morning at 10AM with your phone that blared for the 4th time beside your head.  Groaning, you grabbed the stupid piece of screaming plastic that continued to ring and finally looked at the screen.  Though it was sunny outside, your blackout curtains in your room made sure to keep that pesky sunlight out, so the screen brightness did little to no good on your retinas.  

Unknown Calling…

You squinted at your screen.  Who was calling you? Sighing, as soon as the call dropped for the 4th time, you noticed that the same number had been the same one to call previously.  Rolling lazily onto your chest, your blankets tangling around your legs as your you felt your hair tangled around your neck and around your ears.  You stared at the black screen of your phone, as you were testing a hypothesis. True to your suspicious, the screen lit up as your ringtone blasted for the 5th time.  

Answering it seemed to be your only option at this point.  Five back to back calls was way too excessive to be some random coincidence. Swiping to answer it, you pushed your hair out of the way and placed your phone by your ear.

“Hello?” You answered the best you could with sleep still thick in your voice.  

“Your sleep schedule is awful.  It’s been like, what? Nine hours and your ass in still in bed?” You groaned as you flopped onto your back.

“How did you get my number, Jimin?”

“Take a wild guess?” He teased.  Obviously, it was Jackson.  You muttered a ‘snake’ under your breath as Jimin chuckled into the line.  “Get up, we’re going out.”  You blinked at your dark ceiling.  

“And if I said no?”

“Then I’ll come bang on your dorm door again. I’m already sitting outside the campus dorms.  It’s not too long of a trip up the stairs Y/n.”  You groaned again knowing full well that Jimin absolutely meant it.  “No?”

“Fine, give me like 15 minutes.”

“15?!”

“Don’t push me,” you cut as you hung up on him. Tossing your phone aside,  you crawled out of bed with a whine as you wobbled around your room, trying to wake up enough to wash your face before getting dressed.  

Jimin stood at the curb of the dormitory, leaning against a light pole.  He watched as you cut the call off and your number faded from his phone screen.  Shaking his head, he pocketed his phone as he took a breath out.  Part of him was wondering what he was doing?

He could’ve made other plans today, but he didn’t.  Rather, he didn’t want to.  He fell asleep with you on the brain and woke up the same exact way.  After texting Jackson all morning, trying to pry information out of him and successfully doing so with the promise of a week’s worth of lunch on him, he finally got your number out of him too.  So, the calling began.  

He was rather shocked it only took 5 calls to wake you up.  He laughed to himself as he plucked his phone from his pocket and sent you a text before you came down.  

Jimin: Bring my jacket back, I miss it. :((

He laughed out loud when you shot back nothing but the middle finger emoji.  What a highschooler move.  It was chilly out today.  The clouds kept hiding the sun as they rolled under the light, only letting brief spots of warmth out at a time.  A small breeze was in the air as Spring had just begun with the promise of rain in the afternoon no doubt.  

His blue jeans and hot pink hoodie stood out, yes, but he was proud of that fact. His hair free of a cap lifted with each small gust of wind.  It was exactly 17 minutes when he saw you walking out of the dormitory, a red flannel purse on your hip. His jacket on your shoulders with a black shirt with the picture of a cat on the breast pocket and a pair of blue shorts.  Your hair was down, without anything covering or added to it.  

Part of him didn’t want the jacket back now.

When you got to him, the first thing you did was greet him with a harsh stomp on his foot with your shoes.  He whined as his thin converses did nothing to guard his foot against your heel.

“What was that for?!”

“Calling me five times and then proceeding to force me out of my dorm on a Saturday!”  You argued as you huffed and crossed your arms. “As punishment for stealing my lazy day, I’m keeping your jacket until I return home.”  He grinned, he wasn’t totally against that.  

“Have it your way,” he was easy to give him.

“What did you want anyway?”  He stood back up and swayed to your side.

“A week.”

“Pardon?”

“A little birdie told me that you can’t believe I can go a week with one person.  So, I’d be honored if you took me up on the challenge to so spitefully requested of me.” You shivered in mock disgusted.  “Hey!”

“Calm down, Queenie,” you teased with a grin of your own.  “I actually meant that towards all your flings, but sure.  If you think you can handle a week of me arguing leaving my room, by all means, give it a whirl.” Jimin looked at you with questions in his eyes.  “What now?”

“You gave in waaay too easy, Y/n.”  

“Yeah, well if I declined, I have a suspicion you’d whine to Jackson, who in turn would whine to me and I’m not really up for any more of that than I have to deal with on the daily.” He smiled as he pushed playfully on your shoulder, making you smile again.

“Look at you! Already guessing and knowing my habits.  We’re basically best friends already!”

“Don’t let Jackson hear you.  That will also result in whining.”

“Duly noted.”

Soon, Jimin had started walking around in random locations towards the city.  Something about wanting to window shop and making you come along with him.  You watched when he pulled out a Zippo lighter with a small, nearly empty pack of cigarettes directly off campus.  You rose your brow when you asked him about it.  He was a smoker, but he was in the middle of trying to quit.  He had slowed down from a pack in two days to only a few smokes in that time.  He wanted to pace himself until he cut them off completely.  Ht told you once this pack was done, he would try not to buy any more.

You then started offering him solutions to cravings.  Candies or small habits were a good way to get the urge to smoke off the brain.  Or, if he absolutely found himself not able to quit, e-cigarettes surely weren’t so bad.  Expensive, but not an awful half solution. He took your suggestions to heart, not actually expecting you to take that topic and run with it.  

He had snuffed out the bud when you both got closer to the shopping strip of stores after stores with a cafe on nearly every corner.  It was always busy during the weekend, and Jimin had a feeling you didn’t get to shop often.  The way you seemed to light up and become more bouncy at the idea of maybe actually getting something for yourself today was proof of that.

You both went to store after store with enough coffee breaks to power an engine.  Eventually, Jimin had walked into some indie store, more than curious about the odd patterns he saw in the display window.  You trailed after him, winding through aisles and stopped when you saw a small charm necklace.

The necklace itself wasn’t the best and the chain was weak enough that if you pulled just a bit too hard or it snagged in anything it would surely break. But, it wasn’t that which intrigued you.  It was the pendant itself.

It was a small dandelion. It’s small, metal puffs pushing out in the circle as it if you blew just hard enough the puffs would scatter. Jimin stopped when he noticed you weren’t tailing him anymore, turning to see you bent over and looking at it.  He backtracked to stand at your side, hands in his pockets as he observed it with you.

“You like this?”

You nodded.  “I do.  Dandelions are my favorite flower.  I don’t really like when they bloom into the yellow ones, Jackson used to pluck those and smear it’s pollen all over my arms when we met.  I do like the wish ones those.”

“Wish ones?”

“Yeah, the ones you make a wish on.  If you find one like this,” you poked at the necklace, “and you make a wish, you have to blow as hard as you can.  If you manage to get all the seeds to blow off, then your wish is supposed to come true.” You chuckled at yourself.  “It’s all fairy tale sounding, but you can’t deny its got its romantic side.”

“Huh, who knew an everyday weed is so meaningful to other people.”  You stood up as you huffed.  

“I’ve seen moms get mad at their kids for pulling dandelions and giving them to them as gifts.  They’re not weeds, so just accept them!”  You pouted as Jimin laughed.  You spun on your heel as you trotted off, Jimin watching your back as you disappeared behind some racks of clothing. He rolled his eyes at your dramatic march off as he stood up and followed you, not before grabbing the necklace though. 5$ isn’t too much to spend.

After he secretly purchased the necklace, he placed the small pouch it was in promptly into your purse when the two of you were at yet another cafe while you were in the bathroom.  Apparently, this specific cafe stop was for you to pee, as you had decided that a whole soliloquy about how your bladder was about to burst was absolutely necessary.  It wasn’t. When you returned, all you did two was chat like old friends who knew each other since you were in diapers.

Jimin wasn’t nearly as awful as you thought, and part of you felt guilty for judging him so quickly.  Sure, his reputation was a bit black, but the boy himself was a sweetheart, and you made sure to offer him an apology and a chocolate chip muffin as compensation for your rotten attitude.

Day by day went on and as classes rolled on, Jimin would walk you to and from class, pick you up from your dorm and drop you off and even bring you lunchtime coffee just because you couldn’t say no to something he already paid for.

Eventually, the dawn of day 6 in the week broke and Jimin had called up Jackson.  Telling you that he had something planned to do and that he would see you tomorrow.  He had grown so used to hanging around you, a stab of pain hit him when you replied back to him with an ‘ok :(‘.  You were far too cute he reasoned as he put the back of his hand against his mouth as you added on a ‘you owe me, Park >:(‘ to your message.  

Jimin: I owe you? For what spoilt brat

You: For leaving me alone to drown in boredom.  How dare you??

Jimin: It was literally just last week you were biting my head off for dragging you out of your room. Now your complaining that I have something to do without you?  My my my, how they grow up so fast. Bless

You: Choke and die.  I’m going to take a nap

Jimin: It’s 8AM don’t sleep and mess up your schedule!

You: YOU CAN’T CONTROL ME PARK

Jimin: Y/N!

You: JIMIN!

Jimin: Stay. Awake.

You: …

You: Fine.  Guess I’ll play Overwatch by myself

Jimin: Ew, who plays Overwatch?

You: yOU-

H laughed when you stopped replying.  Whether or not you actually started playing or went back to sleep was a mystery to him as he walked out of his apartment to meet with Jackson.  Jimin wanted to ask him a few things before the end of the week came.  He also had a few woes to lay on your best friend's shoulders.

A game of basketball was what Jimin had planned for the day with Jackson.  Going to the public gym and meeting Jackson with sports gear and a basketball in hand, the man-to-man day would begin.  

Jimin, walking onto the courts with his sports shorts and tank top watched as Jackson lazily threw baskets in a jersey and sweats. Dribbling the ball, he passed it to the smaller man who met him on the court.  Jimin, dribbling it around and getting a feel for it watched as Jackson crossed his arm before he stretched.  

“Really, Jimin? Basketball?” Jimin rolled his eyes.  

“Listen, I have a friend who aces in basketball, so shut up.” It started with the boy just taking turns shooting before a small match of one on one began.  Squeaking shoes on the floor with heavy breaths filled the nearly empty Thursday noon-time gym.  Lay-ups were shot left and right, 3-pointers and of course, the ever dreaded airball followed by laughing at the lame excuse of a shot all came with the game.  Soon, the two men were sat on the far wall, sweat covered and drinking out of water bottles purchased from the vending machine outside the doors.

“Now that the exercise part of the day is done, what is it you wanted?” Jackson asked. Turning towards Jimin taking a drink of water as Jimin craned his head up at the dim lights that definitely were going to go out soon.

“I think I have a crush on Y/n,” Jimin yelped when Jackson spit out his water on Jimin’s lap.  “Thanks for the shower, jackass!” Jackson coughed as he wiped at his chin while Jimin shook his shorts and his arms disgusted.  

“I can totally help you confess!” Jimin looked at his friend. “I’ve got this whole scene I’ve been cooking up for her lucky future boyfriend since like freshman year.  I’d spent a lot of time on this, and you- my lucky man- are gonna be the one to do it!”

“You’re okay with it?” Jimin asked, his voice skyrocketing as he barely spoke in a whisper. Jackson only shrugged as he put his back against the wall again and took a more steady drink since his last attempt ended covering Jimin.

“Yeah, why not?  Sure, you were a sleazy a week ago-”

“Hey!”

“-But, it seems like you get along with Y/n. And she’s not just gonna snub you once the weekends because that’s what you said in the beginning.”

“She told you about that?” That was true, Jimin had only planned on staying with you a week, but now he wanted an extended date.  Permanently if he had the option.

“Of course she did dude.  Look, so long as she doesn’t call me up one day bawling because you did something to her, I have no reason to knock your lights out.”  Jimin shuttered.  He wasn’t unfamiliar with the strength Jackson possessed.  He didn’t fight often, normally pretty laid back and easy going, but he’s heard rumors.  All focus solely around you and how you were picked on freshman year of college.  He got suspended for 2 weeks, but you weren’t picked on anymore.

Jimin looked at his lap as he moved and stuck out his pinky.  He remembered the party night and how serious you were about a small pinky promise.  Then, that thought somehow shifted to how you seemed to take dandelions seriously.  Jimin sighed as he turned back to Jackson, sitting cross-legged and at the utmost attention.

“Alright, tell me what I’m gonna do about this.”  A grin broke out on Jackson’s face as he clapped Jimin on the shoulder.

“Buckle in, Park.  This is gonna be one romantic fuckin’ ride.”

It was Friday as you sat in the library, reading and rereading the same paragraph in your textbook.  It was like your brain wasn’t registering the words, no matter how many times to read them over and over again.  You’d get halfway through, realize you clocked out only to repeat the process. You sighed as you slammed your head into the books fold and someone slid into the seat next to you.  

They rubbed your neck as you whined at your lame attempt at actually studying.  Turning your head and blowing your hair out of your face just enough to see who sat next to you, you weren’t entirely shocked to see Jimin. In his comfortable college dressed glory and his leather jacket, you had finally returned to him. His arm propped on the table as his palm held his chin. He was smiling, probably laughing at your obvious lack of concentration.

“Howdy, bookworm.” You rolled your eyes at him as you planted your face back into the book that smelt far too old to be a 2018 edition of World History. He chuckled again at you. “You know, you can always ditch the books?”  

“I’m so close to almost not having a B in this class it’s laughable.  I’ve never gone below that!” You whined, quietly of course as the librarian was a soundhound when it came to any loud noise ever.  She’s search out the source of the sound like a dog and quickly take to eliminate it.  You’ve been kicked out more than once in your attempts to studying turned to whines.

Jimin rolled his eyes.  Ever the drama queen.  His hand moved from your neck to treading through your hair and massaging your scalp.

“Let me rephrase,” he stopped and started again. “How about you stop for the day, hang out with me and then maybe I’ll help you study later.”  You sat up briefly, his hand remaining on the back of your head as you looked at him like a puppy dog would when offered treats.

“Can we get snacks?” You pouted and Jimin smiled enough his eyes began to close.  Patting your head, he nodded.

“Yes, we can get snacks, you big baby.”  You smiled as you sprung up and slammed your book shut, wincing on how loud the action was before you shoved it in your bag.  Jimin stole your bag before you could pick it up yourself and you pouted when he refused to give it to you. “Let me be a gentleman, Y/n.”

“You? A gentleman? Like you? As in Park Jimin who smokes and drinks?”

“I’m trying to stop smoking, you know that.”  

You nodded, pointing a finger at him.  “Ah, yes, good point.  I revoke that accusation then.” He just pulled up on his lips as he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of the library, stopping by your locker to ditch your bag inside it and then dragged you to a small convenience store to stock up on the snacks of your choosing.

However, you felt a bit bad when Jimin snatched your wallet from you when you went to grab your card and handed the cashier his instead.  You stomped and whined, but he was adamant that the bill was his to foot. You guilt was short lived when he placed the plastic bag of snacks in your arms though so you could offer him one of your marshmallowy-goodness cereal bars.  His payment for footing the payment.

Jimin gladly accepted this.

He convinced you to come back to his home so he could get out his bike, as he had told you he wanted to take you somewhere.  Not sure where he was going, you were half sure he was gonna take you someone and murder you with how sappy he’s been all afternoon, but also half as sure that he wouldn’t.  With a laugh and a promise to not kill you from his mouth, you decided to trust him.

“If you do kill me though, I’m so haunting you so think wisely,” you warned as you climbed onto his bike, your bag of snacks in a holding compartment under the seat as you sat behind him and wrapped your arms around his waist.  

You always just held onto his shirt, to offer him as much space as you could as you literally clung to him not to fly off while he zooms down the road. Though, before he even kicked up the stand, he pulled your hands from his shirt and tucked you close to his back.  He made you clasp your hands together at his stomach, saying it was ‘safe’ though he’s never said that before.

Taking a breath to cool down your heated face, you could see his stupid smile in his eyes as he flicked down the visor on his helmet and kicked up the stand before revving away.  

He took you down some country roads before an hour passed and he stopped when he was at an open field with a small farmhouse not too far off in the distance.  The cattle were off in a group as you could see their small black and white bodies look like ants from how far they were from the two of you.

“Are you sure we can be here?” you questioned when Jimin took off his helmet and ran his hand through his hair.  You hated when he did that, how dare he do that multiple times over and not be aware of it or his attractiveness skyrocket when he does.  Damn frat boy.

“Yeah.  I got a friend of a friend’s permission to be here.  It’s all cool.  We’re not trespassing so come on.” You swung your leg back over the motorcycle before Jimin linked his arm with yours and began to walk off, setting his helmet on his bike seat and not forgetting to grab your snacks either.  

The two of you just walked around.  Treading through the grass and making sure not to step on any flowers of innocent bees doing their hard work of collecting pollen.  Though, Jimin did wave and scare off a wasp once or twice. Which was dumb because that only resulted in the bug buzzing angrily after the two of you before it gave up.

Eventually, you both came to a grove of trees.  They were tall and proud.  You had no doubt they had taken years upon years to grow up to this level of brilliance.  It was just the right time in spring in flowers flew from the treetops and the green returned to the leaves. The wind that knocked the flower petals around was like a cinematic effect.  

Jimin was quick to plonk himself down at the base of one of the trees, sitting cross-legged while unloading your snacks.  Bags of chips, plastic bins of cookies, small individual wraps of brownies and of course some soda to tied you two over while you feasted.  Definitely not healthy, but oh so worth it.

The two of you sat under the tree as ate while you talked more.  It was strange that Jimin and you never ran out of things to talk about.  Any quiet gap between the conversation was quickly filled because all you two were doing was chalking up more conversations to have.  It was comfortable and the air around it made it seem like Jimin enjoyed it more than you did.

“Oh! I forgot, Jackson told me that you have a tattoo!” Jimin ticked his brow up at two things.  Yes, he did, but how did Jackson know that?  Then he remembered just who Jackson Wang was: Gossip Farm Member No.1. “How dare keep secrets in this relationship.  I demand a refund of time and lies.” Jimin shoved at your shoulder as he shrugged off his leather jacket, leaving him in a navy shirt.

“How about I show you and we can forget all about that refund?”

“If you whip your dick out and show me some weird cockring tattoo, please forget it.”  He laughed, nearly falling onto your lap as you braced his back. “I’m serious!” You cried in your own laughter.  He shook his head, putting the back of his hand against his face and looking at the sky through the tree’s leaves.  

“I cannot believe you sometimes.”  He swung his jacket around your shoulders.  “It’s on my rib cage, so hold my jacket for me.  I don’t want to get it all grassy.” You’d complain, but you did have a soft spot for this jacket. So, you slipped your arms through the sleeves and huffed in peace as the jacket warmed you up from Jimin’s body previous being in it.

Jimin slipped one of his arms back through the short sleeve of his shirt as it appeared under the bottom of it and pushed it up to reveal his torso.  The sharp, black ink of NEVERMIND engraved on his ribs. You awed at it.  It was something you wouldn’t expect to be on Jimin, yet the idea and the look of it suited him so well it was almost painful.

“Honestly, if you keep springing these attractive attributes on me I’m going to cry.” Jimin rolled his eyes as he- instead of putting it back on- removed his shirt altogether.  Showing you his back where a spade tattooed lay between his shoulders.  “Another one?!” He chuckled.

“You said not to spring it on you,” he slyly remarked as he watched your face heat up.  “What, too attractive?  Come to think, did you back-handedly compliment me a moment ago?”

“No. Shut your trap you stupid college frat.”

“You’re very good at sending compliments like insults.”

“Ugh, fine!  You’re attractive- is your ego gloated enough now?” He smirked as he took his shirt and threw it around your neck, dragging you closer to him. Your breath caught when he bumped his nose against your, scanning your face like a computer would a test sheet to make sure a No. 2 leaded pencil was used.

“It’s can be inflated a bit more, truth be told.” He watched your eyes switch between his own. “Remember what you told me about dandelions? How they make wishes come true?” You nodded. “Good,” he breathed before he kissed you.  He eased his shirt from around your neck when you didn’t fight or push him away.  He pushed down on you, pushing you further against the trunk of the tree as the sun made the shadows of the leaves dance.  

It was like the shimmering of the sea on your skin as he cracked open his eyes when he pulled away from you just long enough for you to grip the back of his head, entangling your fingers in his hair and pull him straight back.  He wasn’t complaining, smiling as the kiss became fervent.

He didn’t know how long he spent hunched over you in an intense lip lock, and frankly, he didn’t really care either.  Though, there is one thing from the Park Jimin a week ago that wasn’t snuffed out.  The playboy heartbreaker surely died, as you killed him within less than a week.  However, his tolerance and patience when it came to things that looked to become more heated than not, was still at an all-time low.  

He whined as he forced himself away from you, watching as your kiss-swollen lips breathed harsh air out in gasps and your face was as red as the blood rushing to them.  He chuckled as he kissed the tip of your nose and from previous knowledge of seeing it earlier, moved back from you and plucked a dandelion that sat behind him at the base of the tree trunk.

Jimin turned to you and held it in front of your face before he smiled and blew on it.  All the seeds scattering onto your face and into your hair as it left the stem bare. You blew out your lips, trying to make sure no seeds were unsightly inhaled at his assault.  

He laughed again.  “Wanna know what I wished for?”

You plucked seed after white seed out of your hair before you looked up at him as he tossed the stem over his shoulder. “You can’t tell.  That’s literally rule number 1 of wish making.  Telling someone the wish makes it void and it can’t come true!” You pouted.  “Though, I am curious.”

He smiled as he moved and pinched your side.  He kept pinching you until you got to your knees before he grabbed your waist and dragged you over to him.  You walking clumsily on your knees found yourself sat forcefully on Jimin’s thighs as he intertwined his fingers behind your back.

He pouted cutely at you as his blond hair was like that of the sun.

“I wished you would kiss me again.”

“You’re awfully cocky,” you replied with that same crimson on your face.

“I didn’t hear a no?”

“You didn’t, because you know damn well I’m not gonna say no!”

“It’s not nice to yell at your boyfriend who bought you snacks and only wants a kiss or two.”

“You’re actually the worst.”

“Kiss me!”

“Why should I?” You teased as he pushed his knees up, making you fall closer to his chest.  

“The dandelion said so,” so he laughed and kissed you again for certainly not the last time.

-END-

[niksixx]

Going to Give You the World

Requested: Anonymously! 

Pairing: The Dirt! Nikki Sixx x Female Reader

Description: Nikki and reader are best friends since childhood and are both in love but he’s too deep into heroin and she doesn’t want to risk the friendship they have, but she realizes life is too short to dwell on it and after his overdose is on the news she finally tells him the one thing he is looking for is right in front of him

Warning: Mentions of drug use and blood

A/N: Reblog please

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Growing up, you and Nikki always had a special bond. Both of you were outcasts, practically disowned from your families. But your rough family lives only drew you closer together because you could relate to each other’s hardships.

You kept him out of trouble as best as you could, snagging cigarettes from his lips and standing up to anyone who might want to pick on him. In return, Nikki was insanely protective of you, not letting you go anywhere unless he was able to tag along.

Falling in love with each other was inevitable, you couldn’t stop it from happening. But neither you nor Nikki ever acted on your feelings. You didn’t want to complicate things no matter how much you were itching to tell him.

And that was your childhood. Once Mötley Crüe took off, your relationship with Nikki changed. He’d still call you and you would meet up for dinner and drinks when he was in town, but you knew he’d grown a bit distant. The rockstar life was taking a toll on him and his body, you could tell instantaneously; His eyes, which had dark circles underneath and not from stage makeup, lacked that brightness and sparkle they had whenever he saw you. The ends of his hair were dead and it looked like he had forgotten how to use shampoo. Nikki was never a fan of stubble, but a five o’clock shadow coated his sullen face, and he had seemingly shed a good fifteen pounds that he didn’t need to lose.

It was only a week later that you discovered Nikki had been abusing heroin because the news of his death was on every television channel. Your blood had run cold when you saw Nikki’s picture over the words ‘heroin overdose.’ It wasn’t possible, just a bad dream. There was no way that Nikki, your Nikki, had slipped so far into the darkness he had no choice but to surrender. Nikki was a fighter, but he couldn’t fight the addiction.

You cried the whole night, rage blinding your senses. Glass was shattered in your apartment along with many broken lamps. It took a few hours before Nikki’s death really processed in your brain and by that time you had cried so much you didn’t know if there was anything you had left to give.

Were you more upset that you didn’t get to say goodbye? Or were you more hurt that you never took the chance to tell him you loved him? There was so much to love about him, from his sense of humor to the way he would stroke your hair when you fell asleep on his lap. He was sweet, kind, gentle, but also fierce, loyal, and protective.

Vince was the one who called you. At first, you wanted to convince yourself that Vince was pulling an awful prank, but by the shakiness in his voice you knew he was just as distressed as you had been. “He’s in the hospital recovering,” Vince mumbled, “I can pick you up and take you to him.”

Nikki was alive. Thanks to two syringes filled with adrenaline, Nikki had survived the overdose. It was a miracle.

“I don’t think now is a good time, Vince.” Knowing Nikki he wouldn’t want to see anyone, despite the boys’ efforts to bust down his hospital room door. “I can’t see him right now. You need to call me when he gets out of the hospital.”

And you got that call the next night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nikki’s ‘death’ put everything into perspective for you. You had to tell him, no matter how he felt toward you. Would it hurt if he didn’t love you back? Of course, but you needed him to know.

The door of his apartment was slightly ajar so you let yourself in, immediately surrounded with empty syringes and cracked beer cans littered around the floor. Tears were hot in your eyes as you took in the scene in front of you; Nikki had truly flown off the deep end.

“Y/N?”

You heard his hoarse voice first before you saw him. Stepping into his closet, you found Nikki curled up on the floor, head supported with balled up t-shirts. His eyes were open and he looked utterly dazed it was hard to believe the man lying on the ground was Nikki himself.

Bending down, you rested a hand gently on his arm. It was wet with a bright red liquid, and you pulled your hand back in horror when you realized it was blood.

“I did it again,” he whispered, tears gliding down his face. “You think I would have learned after yesterday.”

Nikki continued to break your heart with every word. You had to be strong for him because he couldn’t be strong for himself. Grabbing his arm, you threw it around your neck and heaved him to his feet, desperate to get him into bed. You brushed his hair, cleaned his arm, and helped him climb into fresh clothes before settling him underneath the blankets. You placed a glass of water beside Nikki and despite his protests for you to stay, you sauntered out to the living and began disposing of the syringes, careful not to prick yourself.

43. You found 43 syringes scattered in his apartment, some empty, some half-filled. A tear fell off the tip of your nose every time you threw one in the trash bag. Nikki was slowly destroying himself with every injection.

You figured he was hungry, so you found a can of soup and heated it up over the stove, leaving it for a minute to check on him. He was lying in bed, eyes closed, breathing softly through his mouth.

Quietly you sat on the edge of his bed, gently running your fingers through his hair, brushing it back from his forehead. Nikki grabbed your wrist, startling you, and kissed the inside before letting his eyes flutter open. “I don’t care about anyone else seeing me like this, but I wish you didn’t have to.” He was embarrassed you could tell by the tears in his eyes. “God, Y/N, I’ve been miserable for so long I thought the heroin would help me, bring me some warmth, but I nearly killed myself looking for it. I just…I’m just looking for happiness.”

Cupping his face, you brought him close to your face, noses barely brushing. “It’s right in front of you, Nikki. I’m right in front of you. I thought after you died I never would get the chance to tell you how I feel, but here we are. Life is too short, Nikki. I spent our whole childhood loving you endlessly, and I won’t stop now.”

You’d never seen Nikki’s eyes light up as quick as they had when you confessed your love to him. He smiled as grabbed your face, dusting your cheeks with feathery kisses before pressing his mouth to yours.

“My beautiful Y/N, my girl, I’ve never wanted to hear those words more than I did right now. I have loved you for the longest time.” Nikki sighed and then continued. “I wanted to tell you. I had a plan and everything, but it was after I had found heroin. I didn’t want to bring you down with me, angel. I was spiraling out of control, still am.”

“You need to know that I will be here for you, Nikki,” You pressed a kissed to his cheek. “I always have been. Nothing, not your mom or grade school bullies or even drugs will chase me away from you. I’m here to stay. We’re going to get you sober, and then you can take me out for dinner and dancing as an official first date.”

Laughing, Nikki pulled the blanket over your body, kissing the top of your forehead. “You watch, baby, I’m going to give you the world.”

[thedirtpreferences]

Preference #9 - Wedding Night

Tommy: “Breathe,” Tommy whispered in your ear, noticing the tension that coursed through your body. It was your first dance together as a married couple and all eyes were on you. You had thought that the ceremony was going to be the most difficult part for you, but this was proving otherwise. Furthermore, not only were you timid around big crowds, you were also extremely uncoordinated. And at any second, you felt like you were going to trip over your floor length dress, and everybody was going to see and laugh. “I know, I know. I’m just really nervous.” You murmured, raising your anxious eyes to meet his. Unlike yours, Tommy’s eyes were sincere and warm. Just from the way he was staring at you, you knew that his thoughts were nowhere close to yours. “Because they’re staring?” Tommy inquired, causing you to flinch. “Well, yeah.” You muttered, frowning when your husband began to laugh softly. “Of course, they’re staring, silly girl. Have you seen just how ravishing and irresistible you look tonight? How could they not stare?” You could feel your cheeks beginning to warm and wondered if Tommy would be able to notice through your thick layer of foundation that you were blushing wildly. How was it after all these years, Tommy was still capable of making you blush like a schoolgirl? Moreover, he never failed to make you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world even when you didn’t feel that way yourself. “I’m more afraid of falling,” you reasoned as Tommy rolled his eyes and began to shake his head. “Haven’t we established that I’m never going to let you fall? And even if you do fall…” Coming to an abrupt stop, Tommy suddenly dipped your body causing you to gasp and grab onto him like a lifeline. Your head was only inches from the ground, yet you knew you weren’t going to fall as Tommy’s arms were strong and secure, supporting your body effortlessly. Bringing you back up so that your face was only inches from his own, Tommy pressed a small peck to your lips before finishing his phrase: “You know I’m always going to catch you.” And suddenly all that mattered in the world was the safety you felt when you were in the arms of your husband.

-

Vince: “Get. This. Goddamn. Dress. Off. Of. Me. Now.” Growling at your husband through your teeth, you kicked off your heels off, sighing in relief. Tonight had been, without a doubt, the most perfect night of your life. From the kiss at the altar, to the jubilant ceremony, all the way to now as you finally made it back to your hotel room - every single part had been beautiful. Frankly, you wouldn’t change any of it for the world. Well, maybe just one itsy, bitsy thing: your choice of attire. Although many people had tried to convince you that it would be okay for you to change into something more comfortable before the reception started, you had been insistent on staying in your wedding gown. Furthermore, it was tradition for a bride to stay in their dress for the reception. So, you had toughed it out: corset tied tight, heels squeezing your toes, and discomfort galore. “But of course my beautiful, kind wife.” Vince muttered sarcastically as he approached you from behind, beginning to unlace the backside of your dress. “You would be a little grumpy too if you had been holding in your urine for hours on end and you didn’t have feeling from your waist down.” With each tug, you could feel the dress becoming looser as your body began to ease. The feeling was completely euphoric. “That’s the stuff,” you moaned when the dress dropped around your feet, finally free from the shape of your body. “Is that so?” Vince chuckled at your reaction, kicking the heavy dress to the side as you curled into his open arms. Even though the day had revolved around the celebration of your love, this was truthfully the first intimate moment you had shared with him all day. It felt good to be in his arms; it felt safe, sound. There was just something about the way it felt to be encompassed by his warm embrace; to have your body pressed against his. This was reason enough to be relieved. “Can you believe it's our first night as a married couple?” Resting your chin on his chest, you smiled when Vince leaned down to kiss your nose. “How did I get so lucky?” He sighed as his hand pulled the hair clip gently out of your updo, causing your hair to fall in full, thick curls around your shoulders. His breath caught in his throat at the mere sight of you. “You’re so beautiful, Mrs. Neil.” He whispered as his lips brushed against yours tenderly, his hands trailing down from the back of your head to your lower back. Your hands tightened around his neck, as you deepened the kiss, pulling him even closer to you. You were intoxicated by the feeling of his lips against yours, electricity surging through your veins as the seconds passed. “Shall I show you just how beautiful you are?” Vince posed the rhetorical question, as he laid you on the bed hovering over you as he began to unbutton his shirt. All you could do was nod, knowing it was going to be a long night.

-

Mick: The stress of the wedding had been building and building and building weeks leading up till today. From the dress alterations, to the catering, to the ceremony, to the reception, to the decorations, to the flowers, to the rehearsals, and so on - you had been completely ready to combust from all the pressure. Every single, solitary thing had needed to be perfect, beautiful. And now that the day had finally came, you couldn’t help but to feel silly over all the time you had spent worrying. Today had exceeded any sort of expectation you had originally had leading up to today. Furthermore, today had been absolutely and irrevocably flawless. And you couldn’t be happier…or drunker, really. You really, truly hadn’t planned on getting drunk on your wedding day. Honestly, you had wanted to remember every single detail that the night would bring. But all that changed when you realized that all that stress was over, and you were finally able to let loose. Plus, Mick had actually encouraged you to have a few drinks reassuring you that you deserved to have fun too. So, you drank. And drank. And drank. Which led you to now. “It’s our song,” you slurred as you approached Mick on the dance floor, smiling when he outstretched his hand to you. “How’s my beautiful, drunk wife enjoying the party?” Mick asked twirling you around like ballerina, before pulling you close to his chest. You hummed graciously when you felt his palm warm against the small of your back, pulling you closer to his body as your bodies began to sway to the ballad. Out of everything that had happened over the course of the night, you couldn’t help but to feel like now was your favorite part. Furthermore, it felt good to finally be in his arms again. “Better now,” you breathed as Mick leaned down to rub his nose against yours, giving you multiple eskimo kisses at once. “Can you believe that we are going to spend the rest of our lives together?” Where your words were hardly coherent, Mick was still able to understand them as he shook his head in smiling in disbelief. “It’s almost too good to be true.” He spoke, making you giggle. “Well, you better start believing it, Mars. Because it’s you, me, and the rest of our life ahead of us. Which means me hogging the blankets every night, constantly forgetting to take the trash out on trash day, and of course having to deal with my awful hangovers. Are you ready for all that?” All Mick could do was smile at your words, the back of his hand generously brushing against your cheek, studying your features carefully. “I wouldn’t want it any other way,” And with that, his lips were crashing down on yours, wolf-whistles erupting from the room as all eyes were on you: the happy and in love newlyweds.

-

Nikki: You were exhausted; mentally, physically, and emotionally bushed. Today had been the longest day of your life. Beginning at 9:30 in the morning and not ending till 12:00AM the next day when your plane would land at your honeymoon destination. Not to mention that the night before you had hardly slept. Half because your anticipation for your wedding day was uncanny, and half because you had not been able to fall asleep in the arms of your husband like you did every night. Needless to say, nevertheless, today had been by far the best day of your existence even though it was exhausting. In fact, it had been so incredibly amazing, you didn’t want it to end. Which is why you were currently trying to fight the overwhelming urge to fall asleep while you sat on the plane on the way to your honeymoon. And where you were doing a decent job at staying awake, the struggle was becoming more debilitating by the second for you. Which is why you decided to order a coke when the stewardess came by. Upon your request, Nikki had looked at you disapprovingly knowing full well that you had a low tolerance to caffeine. “Love, you need to go to sleep.” Nikki insisted smiling sadly at you as he wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you close to his frame. “I don’t want to. Today has been the best day of my life, I’m not ready for it to come to an end.” Your words came out in an incoherent garble, a small yawn escaping your lips towards the end. “I don’t know if you realize this, but we have the rest of our lives to be together now.” Nikki reminded you, as you smiled your eyes beginning to grow heavier by the minute. “You do make an excellent point there, Sixx.” You both laughed as Nikki began to run his fingers through your long, curly locks. This action never failed to loll you to sleep, and you resented him for pulling this trick out of the bag to get you to. Unfortunately, you didn’t resent him enough to tell him to stop. Furthermore, the combing of your hair felt too good to go away. “Thank you for marrying me,” you muttered, as the fatigue began to consume you, the filter in your brain beginning to falter. “The honor is all mine, Mrs. Y/N Sixx.” Nikki mused, kissing the crown of your head as you finally slipped into a deep slumber missing the last words that Nikki whispered in your ear which was a simple, “I love you.”

[loyally-unfaithful]

—; sticky fingers

word count: 1090

pairing: connor | rk800/oc

genre: gen

summary: « oh wait, where's...? the detective exclaimed as they rummaged through their bag. i must've-- sorry i really need to... they trailed off. wait here. »

the android simply nodded as he watched the figure scurry away to some part of the precinct.

in the meantime, he found a few things to distract himself with: rhythmically tapping the desk, fidgeting with his coin... he glanced up at the decorated desk and saw a prompt: [ X | ᴱˣᴬᴹᴵᴺᴱ ᴰᴱˢᴷ ] should he...?

a/n: trying to unblock myself and start writing again... so i decided to write some oc x canon stuff as tiny exercise... kinda funny thing that i wrote to also flesh out my oc in a way,,,? ya boi fell in a hole of oc x canon that he thought he would avoid for the longest of times lmao,,, one (1) android controls my life end me,,, in case you do decide to read this, tiny pointers to not be confused: - in this au connor, 60, and rk900 are deviant and work at the DPD. since they're considered rookies (only started officially working as a detective for about a month) they're assigned partners; connor with hank, conan (rk900) with gavin, colin (60) with my oc esmé. - this ficlet mentions my friend's (miusmius​) oc, Ona Boix, who is also a detective at the DPD (i included her in the artwork, and by default in this work)... i don't own her, she doesn't belong to me... mius dont sue me pls

i think that's about it? hope you enjoy this silly thing.

{ [ X | ᴱˣᴬᴹᴵᴺᴱ ᴰᴱˢᴷ ] }

the desk itself is relatively neat, sheaf of paper stacked together and tucked away neatly on one side of the table. other personable belongings such as potted plants, picture frames, and a small owl statuette are organised meticulously. office supplies are placed in cups and holders, not a single item out of place. upon closer inspection, however, the android noticed one item that was not like the other: unnoticeable at first, there was a black pen amidst the others that resembled his… the fountain pen he lost a few days ago.

[ ａｎａｌｙｓｉｎｇ... ] [ ᴬᴺᴬᴸᵞˢᴵˢ ᶜᴼᴹᴾᴸᴱᵀᴱ: ᴸᴬᴹᵞ 2000 ᶠᴼᵁᴺᵀᴬᴵᴺ ᴾᴱᴺ, ᴾᴿᴼᴰᵁᶜᵀ ᶜᴼᴰᴱ ᴸᴹᵞ-ᴸ01ᴱᶠ ]

he pushed aside the rest of the result, ignoring the trivial information such as material (black polycarbonate—makrolon and stainless steel), and swiped the pen up, inspecting the pen’s body. on it was a delicately etched “connor anderson”, coining it as his pen; the one that was gifted to him. stuffing it into his pocket, he now realised how much of the detective’s belongings weren’t actually theirs: hank’s music player, det. collins’ notepad, and headphones he swore he last saw with officer chen. baffled at how no one has noticed yet, he collected said items to be returned after. though most of the stolen goods are of little value and easily replaceable, he settled to discuss the detective’s kleptomaniac tendencies with them soon.

continuing his inspection, he noted the multiple flyers and notes that adorned the  detective’s magnetic board: small notices and stickers from past concert—panic! at the disco (which he found out was a well known alternative rock artist who managed to keep his career afloat even after the popularisation of android bands) and others, both popular and indie, of differing languages.

a small timetable and calendar marked a few important dates, circled and annotated accordingly. a small to-do list is taped near it, date at the top right corner. most of the writing is smudged—[ ᴿᵁᴺᴺᵞ ᶠᴼᵁᴺᵀᴬᴵᴺ ᴾᴱᴺ? ˢᴹᵁᴰᴳᴱᴰ ᴾᴱᴺᶜᴵᴸ? ] – “buy food for paris after work” it seemed odd that the detective still took on-paper reminders when a digital alternative was available, not to mention broadcasting them in full view. – “concert Jules     8:30 pm [sic.]” but perhaps they simply preferred the act of physically writing them down, or leaving behind a trace of their last location in the off chance that something happened… who was this “jules”? he decided not to look the person up, though curiosity was tempting. he resisted the urge (that his non-deviant self would have complied to immediately) if not to give the detective their privacy. he trusted them enough to know that they’d tell him about this individual if they need to.

on the top left corner of the board was a sticky note that wasn’t quite like the others: instead of the neat, smooth lines that was characteristic of their handwriting, this one was a messy scrawl that made it almost illegible—detective reed’s handwriting. under it was a smaller sticky note, belonging to the desk’s owner, which read “asshole”. « succinctly put » the android thought with a small smile of amusement.

the final object, which was a more recent addition to the heavily decorated board was a photograph of a recent birthday “party”, which was more of a potluck to be quite honest. his smile remained, and one may even note that it has become marginally brighter as his features softened. a photograph annotated with the raven haired detective’s commentary (entire precinct made up of loose canons—which wasn’t exactly wrong in his mind), which showcased the coworkers being together and celebrating hank’s birthday (while det. reed sulks on a kitchen counter, frustrated. the android chuckled at the annotations, “trash” is right.).

he scanned through each individual: his “brothers”, colin and conan—taken aback slightly at the fact that the three were called fucko 1-through-3; det. boix and officer chen (titled queens—fittingly as both were incredible at their work, though he sometimes wonder why officer chen still hasn’t been promoted yet…); the man he considers his father—lt. hank anderson—“world’s okayest dad” seeming like an understatement (though he’s quite sure it’s joke shared among the detective and the lieutenant); the two canines—sumo (the best saint bernard there ever was) and paris (the best german shepherd there ever was), and finally the desk’s owner themselves: det. esmé thomas, the person he’s waiting for right now. the picture was a slightly candid one (he didn’t recall being informed that they were going to have their picture taken), but he felt a sense of peace in seeing the group’s genuine joy being captured. it was nice to see them enjoying each other’s presence (some had a harder time showing it, though reed was slowly coming around) after the chaos a few months ago.

« hey, i’m back! sorry for making you wait... we can go now, suggested a voice from his far right. he turned his head to face its source before nodding. – alright. »

unlike hank, esmé preferred to drive in complete silence, the only sounds audible were the traffic outside and the thrumming of the car engine. after a few moments, the detective restarted the conversation: « did you have fun snooping around my desk? they asked playfully. – i was merely inspecting it… i noticed it had a new picture on it, he answered truthfully. – yup, they smirked, you like it? it was from last weekend. – it was certainly amusing, what with the flavour text. – ah, i was hoping you’d say that fucko #1, they chuckled. – so we’re a precinct filled with loose canons? he pushed playfully, rolling his eyes. – i don’t see you disagreeing, they replied, glancing briefly at the android. – touché. »

a moment of silence passed as the conversation died once more, the quietness accompanying them in their drive. but it was fine. it was a comfortable silence as they waited to reach their destination. a question was, however, on the tip of the android’s tongue for what would’ve been the entire ride so far, so he decided to ask them: « i’ve been meaning to ask you… he started. the driver made a « hmm? » to inform the passenger that they were listening. – but why are you wearing detective reed’s sunglasses? he pointed at the accessory on the detective’s shirt collar. »

the question goes unanswered and the android gives up on the thought of ever getting a reply, when the person besides him answered determinedly, not a hint of shame in their voice as they admitted the theft: « it was shiny and i wanted it. »

like my work? consider buying me a coffee // checking out my masterlist | links can be found on my desc